How To Go On
by Wizards of SHIELD
Summary: AU: After Voldemort's downfall, fifteen year old Harry and Draco are kidnapped and tortured for three weeks by vengeful Death Eaters. After their rescue they are taken in by their potions' professor. As Draco struggles with the trauma as well as his parents' betrayal and Harry is haunted by past abuse in addition to the torture, will Severus be able to help? Warnings in chapter one
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 **Summary:** **After Voldemort's downfall, fifteen year old Harry and Draco are kidnapped and tortured for three weeks by vengeful Death Eaters. After their rescue they are taken in by their potions' professor. As Draco struggles with the trauma as well as his parents' betrayal and Harry is haunted by past abuse in addition to the torture, will Severus be able to help?**

 **Rated T but could be an M for violence in the flashbacks**

 **Warnings: Torture, abuse, flashbacks (other warnings in later chapters)**

Severus POV

Severus was in Dumbledore's office when the news arrived. He was sipping at his tea, both of them sitting in weary silence. Neither of them knew exactly what to say- they had both failed miserably. He knew by now that both Lily's son and his godson were surely dead. It had been a month- there would have been no reason for the Death Eaters to keep them alive for this long. He didn't want them to end up like the Granger girl, who had been killed brutally right before the kidnapping. Severus had been about to voice his concerns when the door to the study burst open, revealing a very breathless Remus Lupin. "They found them," he gasped.

Both men were up in an instant. Severus followed after the headmaster, who was striding purposefully out the door. The brisk walk to the hospital wing seemed to take ages, with Severus going over every terrible scenario in his head. The boys could be seriously injured; even insane. He suspected that they had been tortured- that was the only reason they would still be alive after they were kidnapped by the Death Eaters.

All thoughts vanished from his mind as the doors to the hospital wing came into sight. When Potter and Draco had been kidnapped, Severus had blamed himself. He had given up his role as a spy too soon after the battle. All he needed to know was that the boys were all right- then he would know that he had done his job. Well, maybe he did care a bit about their well-being…

Dumbledore halted right before the infirmary entrance, taking a deep breath to steady himself, before swinging open the doors and walking hesitantly inside. The first thing that hit Severus was the smell. The stench of blood, urine, and sweat filled his nose. They were lucky all the students had gone home for the summer, because the scene in front of them was graphic.

Severus could only see Draco- Potter must have been on the other side of the curtain that was hanging next to the bed- but what he observed made his stomach drop. The boy's white-blonde hair was caked with blood and dirt, and his body was a mess of mangled, torn flesh. Madam Pomfrey was attempting to clean him up with her wand while another healer was preparing a blood-replenishing potion. Luckily he was unconscious; he would undoubtedly be putting up a fight if he was awake.

Dumbledore immediately swept to the opposite side of the curtain, while Severus busied himself trying to help with Draco. _Stay calm,_ he ordered himself. _Being frantic will hurt him more than it will help._ He sighed with relief when Madam Pomfrey informed him that neither boy was in immediate danger, then mentally chastised himself. _You shouldn't care this much about them, Severus. People you care about will only be used against you in the end. But the war is over,_ another voice argued. He shook his head to clear it and continued working, trying to ignore his emotions.

He had lost track of time, but a while later he finally collapsed in a chair, having done everything he could for his godson. The skin had been repaired, leaving only shallow wounds and bruises. He smiled slightly. The boys were alive. Damaged, certainly, but… alive. He quickly schooled his expression back to a neutral look before rising and silently slipping to the other side of the curtain to check on Harry's condition. There were several healers quietly bustling around the bed, so he could not see the boy's body, but his eyes were immediately drawn to Albus, who was sitting next to Harry's bed and looking at the child grimly.

"Albus? What's happened?" he murmured, not wanting to disturb the stillness of the room.

There was a moment's silence, then Dumbledore finally looked up at him. "We should head to my office," he said. "We can talk there."

Severus got up and followed him back up the staircase to his study, where he took the seat across from the desk. He looked back at Albus expectantly.

Dumbledore sighed wearily. "A few members of the Order interrogated the Death Eaters that were captured and explained to me what transpired in these past few weeks for Harry and Draco. They were apparently kept in the dungeons of the Death Eaters' headquarters, where they were tortured by Walden Macnair, Lucius Malfoy, and many other survivors of the battle." Severus let out an angry exclamation, but Dumbledore silenced him with a raised hand. "I suspect that the purpose for this was to avenge the Dark Lord, since both Harry and Draco worked in some way to bring him down. And I think it is safe to assume that these events have been very traumatic for both Harry and Draco. Which… is where you come in, Severus."

Severus's eyes snapped up to meet the headmaster's. "Excuse me?" he said.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. "Severus, the war has changed all of us. Including you." Seeing Severus's impassive face, he continued. "I know you have a bit of a past with Harry, and I know that you are not going to be eager to carry out the proposal I am about to give." Severus raised an eyebrow, knowing that this conversation was not going to have a happy ending for him. Though he and Potter had become more civil to each other during the war, he was still not particularly fond of the boy. "When the ministry gets wind of this, they will want to put the boys in St Mungo's. I think it would be best that after Harry and Draco wake up, they are transported to a safe, stable household for a period of time in order to recover."

Severus, seeing where he was going, jumped up. "Absolutely not!" Sure, he was happy that the boys were alive, and he had felt guilty when he thought they had been killed, but that did _not_ mean that he was willing to be their guardian, or therapist, or whatever they needed.

As if he hadn't heard the outburst, Dumbledore went on. "This would be a _temporary_ arrangement, should that be your desire, Severus. I'm asking you this only because I have no other options. I think it would be best for the boys… and I think it would be beneficial to you also."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Severus said, nearly shouting out of desperation now. When he didn't get a reaction, he sunk back into his chair, running a hand down his face. "Why me?"

"Because I think you have the best chance of getting through to them. You have had similar experiences-"

"Like what?" he cried, his voice raising again.

"You, too, have been tortured by Voldemort, Severus. And don't forget about your father."

"What my father did has nothing to do with this!"

"Severus, please. I don't know what else to do for them. I think you are trying to deny the fact that you actually care about them."

Severus shook his head sadly, knowing that he didn't really have a choice. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Albus. I have no idea how to help them."

"None of us do," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "We won't know anything until they wake up, but we can only hope they will be able to heal."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Draco POV

 _He was running through the dungeons, letting out gasping sobs every few seconds. His father's voice echoed out behind him, seeming to surround him. "Come back, Draco," it called softly. "Come take your punishment." Draco whipped his head around, but couldn't see the man. He continued running away, but the dungeons seemed endless. He let out a scream when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Whirling around, he came face to face with the man who had raised him, who had betrayed him so deeply._

" _Father… please…"_

 _His father took no notice of his pleading, and Draco could see the first thrash of the belt coming down towards him…_

His eyes flew open. He covered his face with his hands, trying to block out the blinding light, but he was shaking so badly that it was difficult. He didn't know where he was, but was hyperventilating so badly that it was hard to think straight. "Draco?" A hand grasped his shoulder firmly and he saw a blurry, dark-cloaked figure, reminding him of the nightmare, and he was barely able to lean over the side of the bed before he vomited bile and blood all over the floor. "He's having a panic attack!" he heard someone shout, but he was having trouble processing anything.

His heavy breaths were turning into choked sobs, and he couldn't get any air in. He felt someone grab his arms and pull him into a sitting position, but his vision was so dark and blurry that he couldn't see who it was. He tried to curl into a ball, but he was immediately pushed down by someone standing next to the bed. Seconds later a foul-tasting substance was forced down his throat, and his eyesight became clear again. He drew in gasping breaths, looking around desperately to see where he was. It couldn't be… no, it was definitely not the Hogwarts infirmary. Maybe _this_ was a dream. He tried to keep his eyes open, but the potion was making him drowsy, and he finally surrendered to the darkness again.

Harry POV

Harry felt himself emerging from the dark depths of sleep, but tried to resist. He didn't want to wake up and have to face everything all over again… but his eyes slowly cracked open against his will. Immediately, he knew something was different. There was light- a stark contrast from the dungeons. He was no longer naked and lying on the rocky ground- he had some sort of hospital gown on and was in an actual bed.

He was at Hogwarts.

Rather than calming him down, this thought caused his breathing to quicken. The only thing he could think was a name. _Hermione._ The picture of her bloody, lifeless body seemed burned into his mind, just like it had been in the dungeons. He was reminded of the fact that he deserved the torture he had endured. It was his fault, all his fault. He knew there were tears running down his face, but he made no move to wipe them away. _My fault. My fault. My-_

"Harry?"

With great difficulty, he ripped himself from his trance. His eyes flicked up to take in Professor Dumbledore sitting in a chair a few feet from the bed.

"I'm glad to see you're awake. How are you feeling?"

Harry stared at him blankly for a moment before looking back down at the covers. A strangled whimper escaped from his throat as Hermione's face flickered in front of him again.

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked again. "Are you alright?" He laid a hand on the boy's knee, but Harry immediately flinched away, scooting to the other side of the bed. There was a moment of silence before he heard footsteps, then a new voice.

"Albus? What's going on?" It was Professor Snape.

Harry scolded himself for acting so childishly, especially in front of one of his worst enemies, and looked up at the man. He was shocked to see that the face that was usually filled with such contempt was a mask of concern.

"Harry, we can't help you unless you speak to us," Snape said.

Harry shook his head, fighting tears. He would not cry, not in front of them.

Dumbledore sighed and stood. Harry cringed, expecting a blow for his disobedience, but seeing the gentle look on the professor's face, he sat back again, feeling foolish. "Whenever you feel ready to talk, Harry, we are here to listen. You will be transported to Snape Manor tomorrow morning, so get some rest."

Harry's expression stayed blank at this, but he was secretly revolted at the idea of staying at Snape's home. How was he supposed to feel safe around that man if he couldn't even trust Dumbledore anymore? As both men stood to leave, Harry tucked his legs up to his chest and hugged them tightly. He watched Snape glance back at him before leaving the room, before breaking down. He began rocking back and forth, stifling his sobs into his knees. He didn't know what to do- he couldn't talk about what had happened to him, but he couldn't exactly ignore everyone either. He hated Snape, he hated the Death Eaters who had tortured him, he hated that Hermione was dead, but more than anything else, he hated himself. _My fault. My fault._

He stayed like that for what seemed like hours before finally drifting off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco POV

 **AN: PLEASE READ! There will be vague mentions of rape and mild self harm in this chapter. If you are sensitive to these topics, please stop reading. They will probably be described in more detail in later chapters also. Sorry I didn't include these warnings at the beginning of this fic, but I hope you enjoy :)**

 **I would also like to say a few things that I realized were not very clear in the previous two chapters. This story takes place in the summer after their fourth year at Hogwarts. The war already ended, and Harry and Draco were kidnapped by the remaining Death Eaters to avenge Voldemort (Draco had renounced Voldemort and joined the Order before the war began). Hermione was with them at the kidnapping and was murdered before they were taken. They were held for three weeks before they were rescued by the Order. Exactly what they endured in these weeks will be discussed in future chapters. I hope this makes sense, and thanks to everyone who favorited, followed, and reviewed!**

When Draco woke again, it was dark. A clock on the wall informed him that it was around 2 o'clock in the morning. He let out a whimper when he saw all of the shadows that were being cast around the room, so he sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. Exhaustion pressed in on him, but he perked up when he heard muffled noises coming from the room next to him. Curious, he slipped out of the covers and shivered as his bare feet hit the cold floor. Padding quietly across the room, he listened for more sounds but didn't hear anything.

The door to the room creaked as it opened, but Draco tried not to be afraid as he poked his head in. There, lying twisted in the covers, was the famous Harry Potter. Draco had known Harry was in the dungeons with him, judging from the screams from the next cell over. He had seen him once. He had been dragged into Draco's cell on their first day there, and Draco had been told to torture him in exchange for his redemption. Upon his refusal, they had both been beaten for hours.

Seeing Harry now brought back too many memories from the last several weeks. He was about to turn back when he took in Harry's face. His eyes were wide open, staring blankly at a spot right above Draco's head. There was a haunted expression on his face, and he seemed to be watching something that only he could see. Was he hallucinating?

"Potter?" Draco whispered, frightened. Harry's gaze snapped onto to Draco's face and there was a moment of silence before he let out an earsplitting screech. Draco jumped, tripping over backwards and crawling away quickly. The sound was too similar to what he had listened to in the dungeons. His body began trembling uncontrollably as he remembered the nights he had been awoken by the same noise. Looking back at Harry, he saw that his previous school rival had pressed himself up against the headboard of the bed, his face wet with tears and eyes still wide and fearful. Draco realized that he was crying too and brushed the tears away angrily with trembling hands.

He curled himself into a tight ball against the wall, trying to suppress the gasps of air that he was involuntarily taking. He was embarrassed that Harry was seeing him like this, but he didn't think he was even back in reality yet. He started as a figure rushed into the room, taking in the scene. It was Professor Snape. What was he doing here?

When Snape approached him, he cowered away slightly. He was a follower of Voldemort- had he come to finish what his father had started?

"Hush, Draco, it's just me," Snape said softly, continuing to walk closer slowly. Draco whimpered as he remembered his father saying those same words before raping or beating him.

When Snape knelt right in front of him, he scrambled away frantically. Snape looked like he would follow, but finally turned away to Harry instead. Draco crawled to the corner of the room, trying to make himself as small as possible as the shaking and hyperventilating died down. He buried his head in his knees as he tried to hear what was going on at the other side of the room.

Harry POV

When Harry woke up, it was pitch black. He realized immediately why he had awoken, however, when he heard Hermione's voice. "Hello, Harry."

It was too dark to see her, but Harry replied anyway. "Hermione! I thought you were dead! How can you be here?"

"I'm not," she said. "I'm dead. And it's all your fault, Harry." The door opened, and she walked in. As his eyes adjusted, he saw that her face was gaunt and streaked with tears and blood. Blood, blood, blood everywhere. A scream escaped before he could stop it. No, no, no, she was alive, she had to be.

Tears started streaming down his face, but as he tried to wipe the wetness away he realized that it wasn't tears after all- it was blood. His bed was soaked with it as well. He was vaguely aware that there were two people in the room now, but he shut his eyes tightly, shaking his head. He didn't want to look up and see Ron's dead body too.

"Harry?" he heard someone say softly. It wasn't Ron, it wasn't Hermione… he opened his eyes to see Professor Snape kneeling by the bed. He tried to bolt, but the professor latched onto his arm before he could get off the bed. Harry pulled away as if he had been burned when he saw his shirt wet with blood where he had been grabbed. He watched in horror as the stain grew. Something in the back of his mind told him that this was all in his head, but he couldn't bring himself out of his panic.

He looked up to see Snape watching him worriedly. "Harry?" he said again. "Tell me what you see." Harry shook his head vigorously before raising a shaking finger to point at Draco, who was in the corner and looked to also be in a panic. Anything to get the man away from him. He saw Snape sigh before giving up and moving toward Draco again.

As soon as Harry was alone, he started his chant again. _My fault. My fault._ He began banging his head against the headboard in time with his words, finding that the pain helped clear his mind. He grasped his hair and pulled. Slowly the blood started disappearing. _My fault._

Suddenly a hand was behind his head. It was Snape. "Harry. Stop it, now." Harry stopped. They stared at each other for a second before Snape spoke. "I'm going to put Draco back in his room, then I'm coming back. Don't do anything ridiculous, please."

As Snape helped Draco out of the room, Harry's thoughts strayed. Was he going insane? He had thought that Draco was Hermione, not to mention thinking that the room was coated in blood… had he been hallucinating?

What was happening to him?

Severus POV

Severus had been fast asleep in one of the hospital wing beds when he heard the scream. He sat up groggily, not sure if it was real or a dream. But as he looked over at the private rooms that the boys had been given and saw the light on in Draco's, he knew something wasn't right and jumped up. When he opened the door and Draco wasn't there, he started to panic. How could something like this happen on their first day back? However, when he entered Harry's room and saw them both there, he sighed in relief… which was short-lived as he took in the scene before him.

Draco was curled up in a gasping, shaking ball on the ground. Harry was still in bed, crying and looking around frantically. Severus wished Madam Pomfrey hadn't been called away on family business for the next few days, but knew he would have to fix this alone. He tried to calm Draco first, with no luck. He then looked up at Harry, who seemed to be growing more distraught by the second. After failing yet again to get Harry to talk to him, he returned to Draco, who seemed to have relaxed enough to tell him what had happened. He nearly groaned when he heard about Harry's hallucination- it was just yet another thing to add to his growing list of problems.

He was walking over to the fireplace to floo Dumbledore when the thumping started. He whirled around to see Harry whacking his head on the headboard and ripping at his hair. Rushing over, he grabbed the back of Harry's head. "Harry. Stop it, now." The boy paused, looking confused and angry. At himself or at Severus, he didn't know. "I'm going to put Draco back in his room, then I'm coming back. Don't do anything ridiculous, please."

He turned around, helped Draco up, and walked out. He didn't know how to deal with Harry right now. Until he gained his trust, it was hopeless to try. He then turned his attention back to Draco, who was still trembling in the aftermath of the panic attack. The boy's hand was clenched in Severus's robes. He was missing the little finger, and the knuckles on the rest of his fingers were crooked and mangled from being broken and never properly set. There were burn marks all over his forearm, and he knew that there were many other scars under his pajamas.

"Are you okay, Draco?" he asked quietly, once he had seen the boy back into bed. Draco sniffed and nodded, but Severus could see the tears still in the child's eyes. He sighed as he conjured a chair and put a hand on Draco's knee. "What happened back there?"

Draco wiped his nose on the back of his hand and looked up. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm such a mess. A weak mess."

Severus shook his head. "Draco, you're not weak. You are a young man who has gone through more than many grown men would be able to bear. Now, do you want to talk about what happened in Harry's room?"

"I just… Potter- Harry- and I had adjoining cells in the dungeons. I had to listen to his screams day and night. Hearing that tonight just made me remember things that I only want to forget."

"Draco, you're going to have to remember them in order to heal. You don't have to take that step yet, but you'll have a lot of time once we get to Snape Manor. I have to go check on Harry, but try to sleep, okay?"

"Okay."

With that, Severus turned back to Harry's room. He took a deep breath and stepped inside.

 **AN: This chapter is really long, and it took me** _ **forever**_ **to write because I had major writer's block. Anyway, there may be some errors (even though I read it over dozens of times) and since this is my first fic I don't know how I'm doing if you don't review. So review, and if you like the story then give it a follow! Thanks y'all, and I'll try to update soon!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Harry POV

When Snape entered the room again, Harry was lying on his back staring up at the ceiling. He could sense the professor standing by the doorway, but didn't acknowledge him. There was no way he would be forced to talk to the man who had hated him since his first year. What had even caused this sudden change of heart? Probably pity. Harry despised pity.

"Harry, can I talk to you for a minute? Then you can go back to sleep," Snape said, the normal drawl absent from his voice.

 _Well I don't really have a choice, do I?_ Harry thought. Nevertheless, he shrugged, not objecting when Snape entered the room and sat in a chair next to the bed. They were silent for a moment, then Snape cleared his throat.

"Well… Harry, I know it's pretty far-fetched to expect you to forgive me for how I've acted for the past four years. I could play it off as not wanting to give away my spying position, and that was certainly part of it, but it's not the whole truth." Harry didn't respond, so he continued. "This entire time, I've been comparing you to your father. I honestly thought, for at least three years, that you were arrogant and big-headed like James. When I finally got to know you better, I realized that you weren't who I thought you were… and then the threat of the Dark Lord began growing. I had to keep pretending to hate you, and I knew that you hated me anyway."

Harry finally turned his head to look at the professor skeptically. The man seemed sincere, but if he thought that was all it was going to take to earn his trust, he was wrong.

Snape sighed at the lack of response again. "Harry, I hope that you will eventually talk to me, but wait until you're ready. I'll leave you to go back to sleep, okay?"

Harry nodded, turning over onto his other side. And with that, he was alone.

Draco POV

Draco knew full well that he wouldn't be getting back to sleep that night, so he sat up in bed until the sun started streaming through the curtains of the hospital wing. When he heard a quiet knock on the door, he quickly closed his eyes and evened out his breathing to look asleep. Professor Snape walked in, wearing his normal black ensemble.

"Good morning, Draco," he said, and Draco nodded. "Time to get up, we'll be using the floo network to transport you and Harry to my home."

"Okay," Draco said quietly, and pushed the covers off his legs and standing up. He looked down at the pajamas self-consciously. "Er… my clothes are still at my house."

"That's alright," Professor Snape replied. "We were able to transport your clothes from your Slytherin dorm to your room at my manor, but we haven't gotten permission to retrieve your possessions from Malfoy Manor yet. Hopefully we will be able to get them soon."

Draco gave him a small smile. "That's okay, and, um, thanks. For everything."

Professor Snape patted his back gently. "You're welcome. Let's go see if Professor Dumbledore has woken Harry yet."

When they walked out of the room, they saw Harry already up and standing by the fireplace, looking uncomfortable. Draco gave him an awkward nod before Professor Snape began instructing them on how to use the floo. Harry went first, saying "Snape Manor" hoarsely, after having not spoken in days. Draco went next, and stumbled out of the fireplace, upsetting his still-sore wounds. Harry held out a hand to help him up, and Draco took it hesitantly. "I thought you still hated me," he said to Harry. "You know, your Slytherin rival…" Harry shrugged. Draco hadn't expected him to make an exception and speak to him, but he was suddenly struck with just how boring it was going to be staying there with nobody his age to talk to.

Professor Snape appeared in the fireplace, stepping out gracefully. "All right," he said, clapping his hands once. Harry jumped a bit at the sound, then looked sheepish. Professor Snape chose to ignore it and led the boys up the stairs to show them their rooms. Draco's was at the top of the stairs, and the professor showed him inside. "We have a few hours until lunch, so you can occupy yourself with anything in the room, or you can come downstairs if you please. I can show you the library if you want, and I'll be in my lab. For now…" he opened another door, "you can shower and change into some of your clothes, which are in the wardrobe. But this bathroom is connected to Harry's room also, so try not to be in there too long, as I'm sure he will also want to shower."

Draco nodded. "Thank you," he said again. He had never had a very close relationship with his godfather- his father hadn't trusted the man much- and he was touched by how much the professor seemed to care.

Severus grimaced. "Stop thanking me. I'm happy to help." Then he walked out to show Harry his room. Draco, now alone, sat on the edge of the bed, taking it all in. The walls of his new room were an off-white color, with a green accent wall to represent Slytherin. His school trunk was in the corner, a few of the quidditch posters from his Hogwarts dorm had been put up on the wall, and upon investigation, he found his clothes and broom in the closet. It was amazing how much had changed in just a few days, he thought as he took a towel and some clothes into the bathroom for his shower.

But as he undressed and looked down at the scars covering his body, the memories of exactly why he was there came flooding back. Thinking of his father and mother, who were supposed to love him, he was unable to hold back the tears anymore. His legs started trembling, and he sat down on the toilet, unable to stand with the sobs racking his body. He stayed there for a few minutes before wiping away the moisture on his face and climbing into the shower, blocking the painful thoughts from his mind and tucking away his sadness into the corner of his mind.

Harry POV

Snape left Harry in his room, telling him he could come downstairs if he wanted, but Harry had no intention of voluntarily socializing. He heard the shower turn on in the bathroom, and was filled with a longing to wash off the events of the past weeks. While he waited for Draco to finish, he closed the door and wandered around his new room. He had never had a room of his own, he was always locked in the cupboard at the Dursleys. It was a new feeling to have a space all to himself.

The walls were painted navy blue, and the comforter on the bed was maroon. His school trunk was on the bed for him to unpack, and he was walking over to it when he noticed something by the window. It was Hedwig, hooting from outside of the window. A smile lit up Harry's face for the first time in a month, and he ran to open the window. The owl swooped into the room, landing on Harry's shoulder and giving him a playful peck on the ear.

"Hedwig!" he cried hoarsely, wincing at the way his voice sounded. He cleared his throat before speaking again. "I missed you, girl."

He closed the window again, stroking her feathers for a moment before setting the owl on the desk chair. Then he walked back to his school trunk and opened it. His books had been stacked neatly at the top, and he lifted them out, nearly dropping them again when his still-weak muscles gave out. The starvation had caused all of his muscles to deteriorate, not that they had been very strong beforehand anyway. Next, he pulled out his school robes, which looked too big for him after all the weight he had lost. At the bottom of the trunk were his muggle clothes and a box of his personal possessions. He took the clothes out first, frowning at the oversized hand-me-downs from Dudley. Then he took the box out.

He opened it hesitantly, and gasped when he saw his wand at the top. He had almost forgotten that he had left it behind on his bedside table before he was kidnapped. He set it down next to him, and started going through the rest of his items. He saw the photo album Hagrid had given him of his parents, his old Sneakoscope, and a few souvenirs from the Quidditch World Cup. Then, at the bottom of the box, he found a stack of old pictures. All of them included him, Ron, and Hermione. He traced his finger over their smiling faces, wishing he could go back in time.

He suddenly realized that he hadn't even spared Ron a thought in the past few days. He felt briefly guilty, before realizing that Ron was probably better off without him anyway. Wherever he went, destruction followed, whether it be from Voldemort or from his followers. Harry didn't even realize he was crying until a tear fell onto the picture. He quickly rubbed his eyes and put the pictures face-down in a desk drawer. Then he went to sit on his new bed, staring into blank space until the shower turned off and it was his turn.

Quietly, he gathered his towel and an oversized t-shirt and trousers, then entered the bathroom. He undressed and looked into the mirror at what he had become. His ribs were sticking out more than usual, and his body was covered in scars from the torture. His captors had started with the Cruciatus curse, but soon became bored with it and resorted to more creative measures. That was why his torso and upper arms were covered in cuts, where words and random gashes had been carved into his body. The healers had done a good job healing them, now they were just purple, tender marks. But as Harry gazed at himself in the mirror, he realized just how much he looked like a freak.

Sighing, he stepped into the shower, letting the water clean his body, and wishing it could clean his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 **Trigger warning: This chapter contains self harm, abuse, and slightly graphic mentions of torture. If you are sensitive to these topics or think you will be triggered by them, please stop reading.**

Draco POV

Draco eventually became bored with the book he was reading, and didn't want to be left alone with his thoughts. There was still an hour until lunch, so he quietly crept down the stairs to find Severus. He found the lab quickly, since he had been to the manor a few times as a child, but almost went back upstairs before knocking. Severus probably didn't want to deal with him, he was busy making potions and such… but he finally worked up the courage to knock quietly on the door. He heard a muffled "come in" and pulled open the door. Severus was sitting at a table, pouring a potion into a few different vials. He looked up.

"Hi Draco. What can I do for you?"

"Um… well I was wondering if you could show me the library? I mean, only if you have time, if you don't want to, I can go back upstairs-"

"Draco!" Severus interrupted. "I would be happy to show you the library. Just give me a minute to finish up, okay?" Draco nodded and moments later, Severus was leading him out of the lab and down a different hallway. The boy was excited to finally get a part of his old life back- when he was at Hogwarts, he spent most of his time in the library. He had never felt as if he belonged with his yearmates in Slytherin, since Crabbe and Goyle were completely vacant, Pansy was just clingy, and Blaise and Theodore had never expressed an interest in being friends with him. So when he had nowhere else to go, he always found himself hiding in the library. Now, he just wanted to feel a sense of normality, after everything that had happened in the past weeks.

When Severus opened the door on the end of the corridor, Draco's mouth fell open. Hundreds of books lined the shelves, covering every inch of the walls. There was a ladder to reach the books that were too high to reach and a few couches in the center of the room.

"Wow," Draco said in awe. Malfoy Manor had a library, but it was smaller and filled with books on the dark arts. He had rarely been allowed in it anyway.

Severus smiled at his reaction, an expression that Draco wasn't used to seeing on his face. "I'll leave you to explore, just be careful with the books and be _very_ careful on the ladder, okay?"

Draco just nodded, still staring around the room. He was starting to think that maybe his stay wouldn't be so terribly boring after all.

Harry POV

Harry was startled awake by the door to his room opening. His eyes cracked open and he scrambled to a sitting position as he saw Snape standing in the threshold.

"Sorry, Harry, I didn't realize you had been sleeping," Snape said. Harry shrugged. He had dozed off after staring into space for a while. "It's time for lunch, if you'd like to come down." Harry nodded, running into the bathroom quickly to flatten out his hair, before following Snape downstairs. He was secretly nervous to eat with Snape and Malfoy- after all, it wasn't like he could make casual conversation.

He had little time to worry, however, because at that moment they reached the dining room. Harry was once again shocked by the sheer size of the room, along with how expensive all of the items looked. He wondered where Snape had gotten all of his wealth- from what he understood, teaching jobs didn't have a very high salary.

"I inherited this house from my mother. After my father died, I found out that she had left it to me in her will, and he had never told me," Snape said, as if reading his mind.

They took their seats on one side of the long table. and Malfoy walked in moments later. "Hello, Draco," Snape said, before snapping his fingers. A house elf appeared, placing a plate in front of each of them. Harry picked up his fork and ate slowly, not wanting his stomach to reject the food after such a long period of starvation. They ate in silence for a few minutes, before Snape spoke.

"I hope I don't have to worry about you two fighting while you are here?"

Both boys looked up. "No," Malfoy said, while Harry shook his head. After everything that had happened, he didn't think he had the energy to hate the Slytherin anymore.

"Good," Snape replied. "I'm glad you've left that rivalry behind you. After all, you're going to have to deal with each other for a while. The headmaster and I have agreed that it would be best to keep you here for the rest of the summer." He said it as if he expected the boys to argue, but Harry just cast his eyes down at his plate, noticing Malfoy do the same. He knew that the Slytherin's relationship with his parents was pretty terrible, at least from what he had seen in the dungeons. As for himself, he was just glad that he wouldn't have to go back to the Dursleys that summer.

He shuddered at the thought of the Dursleys, trying not to think about last summer… or next summer. He saw Snape eyeing him, and quickly schooled his expression back to blank indifference, listening to the professor's next words.

"We have also decided that it will be best for a mind healer to come here three times a week." At that, Harry's head shot up in shock. Snape looked back evenly, and Harry immediately looked down again. A mind healer? They couldn't force him to talk about what he had experienced or what he was 'feeling.' _I guess I just won't talk,_ he thought. _It's been working out for me so far._

"I expect that you'll try to talk to them, to recover as well as you can," Snape continued. Harry wanted to melt into the floor. Why was Snape singling him out like this in front of Malfoy? He just nodded, trying to avert the attention from himself. Malfoy's face was unreadable, so he ducked his head, wishing he was invisible. He knew he wouldn't be able to eat anything else, so he spent the next few minutes in silence, stirring the food around his plate with his fork.

Finally, Malfoy saved him. "May I be excused?" he asked. Harry noticed that he hadn't eaten any more food than he had. Snape seemed to see it also, but didn't acknowledge it.

"Yes, okay. Harry, if you're done, you can go too." Malfoy got up, thanking Snape for the meal, but Harry darted away immediately, desperate to be alone. When he reached his room, he shut the door quickly and leaned against it. He barely made it to his bed before collapsing.

When Harry awoke again, it was dark. He realized that he must have fallen asleep again and missed dinner. Would Snape be upset with him? Thinking about making the professor angry on his first day there, he sat up immediately. However, he soon saw that there was a plate on his desk, preserved by a heating charm. He saw that it was salmon, and suddenly he was back at the Dursleys. His ten year old self was cooking a salmon in the frying pan, when Dudley came barreling through the kitchen, knocking him over. By the time he had picked himself up from the floor, the salmon was burnt. His hopes that Uncle Vernon wouldn't notice were in vain, and the purple-faced man had grabbed his hand and forced him to hold it on the frying pan, causing a severe burn on his palm.

Suddenly, the vision changed. Macnair was holding him down on the hard floor of the dungeon, while Lucius Malfoy pressed the tip of his burning wand to the skin of his hand. It was only the beginning of the torture for that day- they had gone on to light a full-fledged flame from the wand and burn his entire forearm into a blistered mess of deformed flesh.

He stumbled back, tripping over his feet and falling to the ground. He was in his bedroom, at Snape Manor. When he reached up to rub his face, he realized that there were tears streaming down his cheeks. He looked down at his hands, seeing a small burn scar on his left hand and a large scar on his right arm. It was in the past now, it shouldn't be able to haunt him anymore.

He pushed himself up from the floor, entering the bathroom and staring at himself in the mirror. His eyes were red, but his face was pale. He shut his eyes tightly, trying not to think, but when he opened his eyes, his face had been replaced with Voldemort's. He thought about a book he had read, which had said that people who suffer abuse or trauma often go dark. Would he be the next Voldemort?

Turning away from the mirror, Harry grabbed his wand and conjured a razor. He hadn't cut himself in at least a year, since his last stay at the Dursleys. He wondered briefly if Snape had spells that would inform him about it, but before he knew it, he had already made a horizontal line across his wrist. His brain registered the pain immediately, and he relaxed, sighing with relief. He made a few more cuts before he vanished the blade and looked down. When he saw the blood, it was like waking up from a trance. He finally realized what he had done, and started to panic. What if Snape found out? He ran his arm under cold water from the sink before cleaning up the rest of the blood and changing into pajamas. He lay awake in bed for a while, wondering how his life had come to this. Finally, he drifted off to sleep, his dinner still untouched on his desk.

Severus POV

Severus spent the rest of the day in his lab, trying not to worry about the boys too much. When dinner rolled around and Harry didn't come down, he was concerned. The child had been acting odd at lunch, and he went upstairs to check on him as soon as Draco finished his food (which wasn't much, he had noticed that both boys seemed to have a hard time eating full meals). He found Harry fast asleep on top of his bed, looking more peaceful than Severus had ever seen him. Sighing, he summoned Twinkle to bring his dinner up. Then he went downstairs to floo Albus.

When Albus appeared in the fireplace and stepped out, Severus was relieved. He needed to talk to the man and was in desperate need of advice.

"Hello, Severus," Albus greeted him. Severus slumped into a chair across from the headmaster, sighing wearily. "I take it the day didn't go well?" Albus asked.

Severus shook his head. "No, it didn't go terribly, it just… it's hard to see them like this. Harry doesn't trust me yet, and hasn't spoken at all since he woke up in the hospital wing. Draco just seems very hesitant and shy, like he doesn't know how to interact with other people anymore."

Albus didn't look surprised. "I think that Draco just needs time, after going through so much betrayal from his parents. Harry, however, seems like he needs more help to get over this. Being able to talk to a mind healer should help him, but unfortunately until he learns how to trust, he might not talk."

Severus was still confused. Harry's odd behavior seemed like more than trust issues. "Harry's also been sleeping a lot, and always wants to be alone. When he's around other people, he seems uncomfortable and anxious. Not to mention that his lack of talking is starting to worry me."

"It will take time to figure out what's going on in his head. For now, just try not to push him too much, or he might never open up."

Severus sighed and nodded. "I understand, I just… I don't know what to do. I stand by my statement that I am not the right person to do this."

"Severus, you don't need to try to fix them, you just have to be there for them. Eventually they will learn to trust you."

Shaking his head, Severus finally conceded. "Fine. I expect you back here tomorrow night so I can discuss their reaction to the mind healer with you."

With that, Albus left him alone, and he headed tiredly up to bed.

 **I try to update every week, but I had no idea what to write which was why I missed an update last week… sorry… I also need to start making my chapters longer, so I'll try. Like I said before, this is my first fic so please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 **I know, I know, I haven't updated for a month. Whoops. I have a crap ton of excuses- mid terms, homework, writers block… but I'm kind of mad at myself, too, for putting it off for so long. I'm writing an Iron Man/Avengers fanfiction also, which should be up soon.**

 **Trigger warning: this chapter (and the rest of this story, for that matter) will contain panic attacks, self harm, and mentions of torture. If you don't think you can deal with this or that it will trigger you in any way, please don't read. Sending puppies and kittens your way :)**

Draco POV

Draco drifted off to sleep almost immediately after the stressful day, but instead of peaceful darkness, he was thrust into a cell that smelt of blood and human waste. There were hands all over him, gripping his shoulders and neck. He was gasping for air, coughing and sputtering. His head was shoved roughly back into a bucket of water and he held his breath, knowing that even if he struggled, he would never be able to escape. His body was consumed by fear, but finally his head was let up and he was released. He fell back onto the hard stone floor, finding himself staring up into the eyes of his father, who was looming over him.

"This is what we do to spies," he sneered. "You chose the wrong side, Draco. We'll kill you, and then we'll kill your little friend Professor Snape, too." The fear must have been showing in his eyes, because his father smirked, seemingly amused by his son's pain. He turned away, waving his hand flippantly at the other Death Eaters. "Do whatever you want with him, but keep him alive. Death is too merciful for a traitor."

Draco shut his eyes tightly and curled up into a ball, hearing the next word that was spoken into the echoing cell: "Crucio!"

He woke with a start, breathing heavily. He ran a trembling hand through his hair, which was soaked in sweat. Glancing over at the clock, he saw that it was only three o'clock. He knew he wouldn't get back to sleep, so he threw the covers off and stumbled out of the room, planning to head downstairs to the library to occupy himself. The darkness and cold reminded him too much of the cell he had been in, and he was relieved when he finally reached the library, with its warm, dim lights and comfortable chairs. He found himself wishing he had his summer homework- not to mention his missed work from the two weeks he had missed before school was let out. He made a mental note to ask Professor Snape for it in the morning, but settled for a fictional book about a wizard and a dragon in the meantime.

He read for what must have been hours before falling into a light doze. When he woke again, it was eight o'clock. He realized that Professor Snape would soon realize he was not in bed, so he quickly put his book away and crept upstairs. He had planned on taking a shower, but the thought of water brought up too many memories of his nightmare. He settled on splashing cold water on his face to try and lessen the dark circles under his eyes. Nevertheless, they were still obvious.

The realization hit him like a bus- today was his first day of therapy. He would be expected to talk about what his father and the Death Eaters had done, and then they would try to fix him. He knew he wasn't fixable- no amount of talking would be change what had happened, or how he felt about what had happened. He supposed Professor Snape was just trying to help, but his good intentions would mean nothing- once he realized that Draco was too damaged to get better, he would betray and abandon him, just like his father had.

Harry POV

Harry was awoken by light streaming into the unfamiliar room he was in. After a brief moment of panic, he was able to remember that he was at Snape Manor- safe. The next thing he remembered was that today, a mind healer would be coming to try and convince him to talk. The third thing he remembered was that he had a row of cuts on his arm from the previous night. He fell back on the pillows, angry at himself for breaking such a long clean streak. Now he had to deal with the task of finding a shirt long enough to cover his wrists. Not that it should be that difficult, with all of Dudley's huge, oversized long-sleeved tees.

Soon he was walking down the stairs to breakfast, not wanting Snape to have to come upstairs to remind him. However, when he reached the dining room, nobody was there. A house elf appeared and set down a plate of eggs and sausage. At his questioning look, she decided to explain. "Mr. Malfoy has already eaten. Since Mr. Snape does not require you all to eat breakfast together, only dinner, he said you should eat and then return to your room. The mind healer will see you first, in about a half hour."

Harry nodded and sat down, once again eating as much as he could while being conscious of his limits. After consuming only about half of the plate's contents, he felt the telltale signs of nausea, and pushed his plate away. Once he was sure he would not throw up, he made to stand, hesitating only a moment before realizing that the house elf would probably come to clean up after him. He crept out of the room, hoping not to encounter anyone, but ended up running into Snape in the hallway.

"Harry! I'm glad to see you're up," Snape said. Once it became clear he would not be getting a response, he continued. "The mind healer should be coming soon, so I'll send him up when he gets here. Did you sleep well?" Harry fought to neutralize his expression, and nodded. Severus, however, didn't miss the deer-in-the-headlights look. "Good. I'll be down here if you need me."

When Harry reached his room, he sat down heavily on the bed. _He's bound to notice something's wrong- other than the obvious- if you keep acting like this. Get it together._ Sighing, he stood and went to the bathroom to wash his face. Minutes later, there was a knock on his bedroom door. Steeling himself, he opened the door, seeing Snape and a timid-looking brown haired man behind him.

"Harry," started Snape, "this is Healer Jackson." The man held out his hand, and Harry took it hesitantly in his shaking one.

"Hi Harry. You can call me Jack," the healer said.

Snape must have taken this as his cue to leave, because he smiled at the two and shut the door quietly behind him.

Now alone with the man, Harry felt himself getting more and more nervous. He sat on the edge of his bed and the healer sat on the desk chair across from him. He seemed nice enough… not threatening or frightening by any means. Harry was finding it harder to resent him, but was still painfully aware of the fact that this man probably thought he was like an animal, who needed to be caged so he wouldn't hurt anyone.

"So, Harry…" Oh no, he was talking. Harry hadn't thought this through enough. There was no way he could respond, he couldn't talk to this person, this stranger. He couldn't even talk to someone he knew! He wished he could say something, he really did. There was nothing worse than being trapped in his mind, but there was no way he would be talking. So he sat there, dumbly, as Jack continued. "Professor Snape tells me that you just returned from a rather… taxing experience, for lack of better words." Harry nodded, nearly panicking. He didn't think he could listen to the man reiterate everything that had happened. If he said something about Hermione…

"He explained the basic idea of what happened to me. He also told me that you seem to have developed a reluctance to speak of what happened. Or to speak at all, for that matter." Harry shrugged, immensely relieved that he wouldn't be forced to explain everything. "Can you tell me about that?" Harry shrugged again. Explaining why he couldn't talk to anyone involved actually _talking._

"Okay. I don't know how much progress we'll be able to make until you're able to speak, but just know that talking about what happened will help us to be able to help you, if that's your concern. Professor Snape seems to really care about you-" Harry almost scoffed at that- "and everything you say in these appointments is strictly confidential."

Harry tried to avoid casting a skeptical glare, keeping his mouth clamped firmly shut.

"If you'd like to say anything at all, you can say it now. If not… we'll just have to try again next time."

Harry looked down. He was ashamed of his weakness and inability to speak, but he was aware of his limits, so just shook his head. He was able to force two quiet words out: "I'm sorry."

Draco POV

Draco was sitting on the very edge of his bed, his shaking hands gripping the quilt. His fingers were fiddling nervously as he tried to distract himself from the man in front of him. He had been talking to Healer Jackson for several minutes now, and he had just asked questions about his hobbies and life before… well, before the war. Draco supposed the healer must specialize in torture victims or something of the like, and he was just trying to get him to relax and let his guard down by asking simple questions, but it was only upsetting him more.

"What do you like to do in your free time at Hogwarts, when you're not in classes?"

 _You mean, other than writing letters to father, informing him of everything happening at Hogwarts, like the dirty little spy I was?_ "I used to go to the library a lot. I like to read." _I also liked to wander the halls and torment all the mudbloods and Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs._

"Did you hang out with your friends much?"

 _Ha. I haven't even thought about Crabbe and Goyle. They're probably dead, or in Azkaban._ "Sometimes, I guess. I only made friends with the people father wanted me to be friends with, and tried not to spend any more time than I had to with them."

"I see. And-"

"Why are you asking me these questions?" he finally snapped.

The healer didn't even look surprised, he just leaned forward a bit and studied Draco thoughtfully. He tried not to squirm under the searching gaze. "I just thought- and correct me if I'm wrong- that you wouldn't want to immediately jump into a conversation of what has occurred in the past weeks. I assumed that it might be upsetting for you. But by all means, if that's what you'd rather talk about…"

"No. Sorry," Draco mumbled. "I don't really want to talk about that yet. But I don't want to talk about before the war, either."

"Okay. I'm just trying to get to know you. We can talk about whatever you want to talk about. You're fifteen, yes?" he said, trying to get back to a normal conversation.

However, Draco made a choking noise at the supposedly simple question. "When was I kidnapped?" he asked suddenly.

"May 29th, I believe. Today is June 24th. Why?"

Draco blanched as he fought the impending flashback, not wanting to revisit the day when his father had walked into the cell, giving him a particularly difficult beating as a "birthday present." Usually his father sent other people to do his dirty work for him, and Draco hadn't understood the reason he had gone himself that day. Now he did.

"I turned sixteen on the 5th."

The healer looked at him sympathetically. "I'm sorry. I'm sure Professor Snape would have a late birthday celebration for you."

Draco shook his head. "That's not the point. The point is that I…" but he faltered, just shaking his head again.

The healer sighed. "I think we're out of time. Do you want to talk about anything else?"

Draco shook his head, trying not to let himself retreat into the depths of his mind. The trembling in his hands was getting worse and was spreading to the rest of his body, too.

"Okay, then. I'll see you in two days." Just as he stood up to leave, however, Draco lifted his eyes.

"Wait." Hearing this, the healer stopped and turned back. "Do you know… Do you know why? Why did this happen?"

The healer exhaled slowly. "That's a good question, Draco. At its roots, I think the Death Eaters just enjoy inflicting pain on others. They had just gotten their leader back, and when he was killed in the Battle of the Ministry, they wanted revenge. They wanted to cause you pain for sharing their plans with the light side and spying on them. They knew that they had lost. I think it was what you could call a final act of defiance."

Draco tried to nod, but shakes were racking his body, his breath becoming more erratic from the stress of talking about this all at once. It was overwhelming, and he didn't want to think about it anymore. Faintly, he heard the healer's worried voice asking if he was okay, but before he knew it, he had stumbled away from the bed and was running away down the hall.

 **AN: Please follow and review! Hopefully I'll have another update up sooner than the last :)**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 **AN: Sorry for my inconsistent updating and the short chapter. I've been awfully busy with school, and this story is getting harder and harder to write as the story kind of thickens. I'm trying to develop the plot a little while still making it interesting, so I hope you enjoy! :)**

Draco POV

Draco found himself in the library. He collapsed behind one of the chairs in the sitting area, hiding himself from view of the door as he leaned back and hugged his legs tightly. His gasps were coming more and more quickly and he recognized, this time, that he was having a panic attack. However, that knowledge didn't prevent it from happening, and he sat there for several minutes before the trembling subsided.

He slowly came back to reality, realizing that he had been rocking back and forth in his little curled up ball. Allowing his legs to peel away from his chest slowly, he loosened the tension in his body gradually and brought his hands up to rub his face. He was exhausted, both from the lack of sleep the last few nights and from the emotional exertion of the morning. He tried to keep his eyes open, but eventually just gave up, curling on his side on the carpet and letting exhaustion overpower him.

Severus POV

Severus had gone down to the sitting room to read his newspaper, barely able to focus out of worry for the boys. The mind healer he had chosen had specialized in torture victims before, but Severus was still concerned. He didn't know how Harry would react to a situation where all the attention was focused on him, and Draco's responses to everything so far had been unpredictable. He hoped that they would be able to open up to the healer and realize that the only way to get better is to talk about their experiences and feelings. Especially Harry. If he was being completely honest with himself, he was starting to get really concerned with the boy's silence. He didn't want to consider that it might be the beginnings of selective mutism.

Severus didn't know how long had passed before he heard rushed footsteps on the stairs, then silence. Moments later, he heard a second set of footsteps, and stood hurriedly to find the source of the disturbance. He was met at the threshold by Healer Jackson, who looked upset.

"Did Draco come down here? We were talking, and he just started shaking, and when I asked if he was okay he sprinted out of the room."

"I didn't see him, but I think I heard him coming down. Where would he go? He hasn't been here for long enough to know his way around that well yet." Severus racked his brain for any possibilities. He didn't like the idea of Draco running around the manor in a panicked, incoherent frenzy.

Suddenly he remembered showing Draco the library the day before. He led Healer Jackson down the hall and opened the door quietly. Nobody was there. Just as he was turning back, however, he heard a sniffle. Both he and the healer jerked to attention, staring around the room with more intensity. Another sniff came from behind one of the leather chairs.

Severus crept slowly across the room, trying to avoid startling the boy when he came into view. But when he finally looked behind the chair he saw that he had fallen asleep. Rolling his eyes, he lifted the small, worryingly underweight teen onto one of the couches and conjured a blanket to cover him with. The bags under his eyes suggested that he really needed the sleep.

Turning back around, he gestured for Healer Jackson to follow as he exited the room. Thankfully, he did so without question and sat down across from Severus in the dining room, waiting patiently for the professor to speak first.

"This… This is how he's been ever since they got back. Always nervous, having panic attacks left and right. I guess it's a reasonable reaction, after all that's happened."

"Indeed," replied Healer Jackson. "The attack might have been brought on simply by the stressful situation, or by the talk of his father."

Severus nodded, running a hand over his face wearily. "What about Harry? I know that it's confidential," he added quickly, "I just mean, is he okay?"

"He seemed all right. Didn't talk at all, but I'll try some techniques to see if I can get him to start speaking again next time." He checked his watch. "I should get going, I have another appointment soon." He stood, shaking Severus's hand and turning to leave before pausing. "You might want to check on him anyway, though. He's probably keeping secrets if he's holed up in his room like that all the time. Just let him know you're there to talk if he needs it."

Harry POV

An hour and a half dozen cuts later, a knock came at Harry's door. Harry sat up from where he had been curled up, sorrowfully flipping through _Quidditch Through the Ages,_ and pulled his sleeves down over his hands hurriedly. The door swung open to reveal Snape, looking hesitant for once.

"Er, hi, Harry. Would you like to come down for lunch?" Harry shook his head. He wasn't hungry. "All right then, I'll make sure Tiddles brings something up for you." Just before closing the door, however,

he turned back. "Harry… I don't like seeing you this way. I know that what you went through is difficult, and like I said before, I don't expect you to be able to forgive my behavior for the past few years, but I want to help you. If you ever need to talk, I'm here." Without waiting for a response he knew he wouldn't get, he left, closing the door behind him.

Harry stared at the door for a few moments after he left before curling back up and tucking his head into the crook of his arm, pressing his eyes shut tightly against the impending headache. How had he come to this? And where was the end? He wasn't stupid enough to think that he could mope around and stay silent for the rest of his life, but he didn't see a way that he could get past this.

For now, he could embrace the absence of pain in every limb, but the memories of the abuse that he suffered both at the hands of his uncle and the Death Eaters haunted him.

 _Time,_ he thought. _That's all I need. Eventually I'll get over this, I just need time._ And with that, he let the heaviness of his mind and body overcome him, and he slipped into a migraine-induced slumber.

Draco POV

Draco awoke from another nightmare with a start. It took him a moment to realize that the wetness on his face wasn't, in fact, blood, but sweat. He took note of his surroundings, realizing that he was in the library, but it was a bit longer before he remembered the events of the previous hour. His father would call him weak, but he was just glad to be alone now, away from the analyzing eyes of the healer.

However, when he sat up, he got the sudden sensation that the walls were closing in on him. It was much too similar to the small, stone cell, and before he knew it, he was up and moving again. He stumbled through the halls, breaths coming in short gasps. He needed to be outside to escape the feeling, so when he came to a side door, he grabbed the handle, only to find it locked. He tugged on it vigorously, looking around frantically as if a Death Eater was going to jump out of the shadows at any second.

Eventually he collapsed against the door, shaking and whimpering. He was trapped. Now his father would find him, and punish him for trying to escape, and they would bring him back to the dungeons and torture him more.

Severus POV

When Severus's wards went off, signaling him that one of the doors of the manor was being tried, he suppressed the hundreds of possibilities of danger that were flying through his brain- second nature from his years of spying. He shook his head, dismissing the far-fetched, paranoid ramblings of his mind. He decided to go check it out, just in case an unwanted visitor was trying to get in. What he didn't expect was the frantic teen sobbing at the door and trying desperately to get out.

"Draco?" he said worriedly. The boy jerked his head up, eyes wide and frantic.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll go back to my cell, I didn't mean to come up here, it was just the walls were.. they were…"

"Draco, it's okay. It's Severus. You're safe."

He saw Draco's forehead crease with recognition, but it didn't seem to do anything to calm him. "The… the walls…" he whispered, clutching at his hair and pulling. "Outside... outside, please."

Severus nodded, approaching the boy slowly as if he was a frightened animal. "Okay, Draco. You can go outside." He reached a hand into his pocket to unlock the door with his wand, but didn't miss the small flinch from the boy on the floor as he pointed his wand at the keyhole.

When the door was finally open, Draco stumbled out, collapsing on the gravel outside. Severus followed cautiously, not wanting to do anything to worsen the teen's current condition. When he leaned over and started retching up his breakfast, however, Severus closed the distance to put a hand on his back, rubbing lightly until the blonde had emptied his stomach.

Sitting back, Draco closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face. "Sorry," he whispered defeatedly.

Severus placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to apologize, Draco. You got claustrophobic?" Once he got a small nod of confirmation, he went on. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. After what you went through, it's to be expected."

"I'm still sorry," Draco murmured. Sighing, Severus waved his wand to clean up the regurgitated food and helped Draco up.

"Let's go inside," he said. "Unless you want to stay out here for a while longer."

"Can we stay out here?" Draco asked quietly. "I just haven't been outside for… a long time."

"Sure. I know just the place to show you." Severus said brightly, trying to lighten the mood. He let his hand rest lightly between Draco's shoulder blades as he led him over to the patio. He had always been wary of physical contact, but he knew it was something Draco had been deprived of as a child. He was willing to offer any sort of comfort possible to this boy, who was clearly suffering so much.

When they reached the patio, Severus let Draco lay down on the hammock as he sat on one of the lawn chairs. He took a moment to appreciate the beautiful weather, something he didn't get to enjoy much. He didn't venture outside much, so embraced the days that he did. When he looked back over at Draco, he wasn't surprised to see the boy fast asleep.

 **AN: Please follow and review! Thanks to all of my loyal readers and reviewers, I love to hear your (constructive) opinions and feedback!**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 **AN: Thank you so much for following and reviewing, I was so happy when I saw that I have almost 70 followers! I also love reading your reviews, they help to motivate me to update and I've gotten a few ideas from them, so thanks!**

 **I apologize for my inconsistent updates, I think I'll try to post every two or three weeks from now on, since I don't want to slack off for a month like this time. This way, I'll hopefully be able to pre-write some chapters, giving me more time to think them over with less pressure to finish them. These upcoming chapters will be hard for me to write, because I know exactly what I want to write but I just don't know exactly how to write it. Hope you understand!**

Harry POV

Harry stayed in bed for the entirety of the next day, mentally scolding himself for his moping. Snape probably thought he was a lost cause… and maybe he was. He spent most of his time sleeping, letting his body rest after the lack of sleep he was subjected to in the dungeons, and only accepted breakfast. He ventured downstairs for dinner, which he spent in uncomfortable silence as Snape tried to distract Draco with talk of Quidditch and potions.

When he returned to his room that night, he had a splitting headache behind his eyes. He felt the painful reminder of the migraines he used to get at the Dursleys, laying in the dark of his cupboard after a day of chores and waiting tensely for Uncle Vernon to drag him out and… He felt his knees buckle as he fell to the floor, already lost in a flashback.

 _Harry hadn't finished his chores that day. He had been hit with a hunger-induced migraine in the mid-afternoon and collapsed in his cupboard, trying in vain to fall asleep even though he knew he would receive a beating for his half-finished to-do list later. It would happen anyway, even if he did finish, he told himself. Aunt Petunia tried to rouse him once- he knew she didn't agree with Vernon's disciplinary actions, even if she did hate Harry. But she was familiar with his migraines, and made herself scarce when Vernon returned to the house._

 _Predictably, he had noticed that the lawn wasn't mowed, the hedges not trimmed, and the glass storm door unwashed. He pulled Harry from the cupboard by the collar of his shirt, unconcerned when he stumbled dizzily and leaned against the wall for support. "You didn't do your work, today, boy," he said dangerously._

 _Harry tried to discreetly press his hands against his temples, mumbling something about his head and a migraine and dizzy, so dizzy. Uncle Vernon seemed to understand, however- after being drunk so many times, Harry supposed he was able to decipher his slurred, impaired speech. "Oh, you have a little headache, do you? Well guess what? So do I! I work my ass off every day to put clothes on your ungrateful back. And what do you do? Sit around on your lazy ass, you little bitch." With that, he pushed Harry into the wall, letting him fall with a cry of pain as his head was jarred._

 _The beating that night was particularly painful as the pain in his head worsened to agony. Each lash of the belt sent a line of fire down his back and made his skull feel like it was being slammed repeatedly in a door._

Harry pulled himself out of the flashback, clutching at his head as the migraine flared up. He fought off the next sequence of the flashback that was inevitable, curling up on the ground with his back against the bed.

 _Macnair had grabbed his hair and was using it to hold him in a half-sitting position. He could hear Draco's screams in the next cell over, which was why Lucius Malfoy, for once, was not present. Lestrange had taken his place in the door frame, supervising the torture without getting his hands dirty. Harry wondered what it would be today. He was going on his third week in the cell, and had experienced most of the tortures they had to offer. They had gotten bored with the Cruciatus after a few days, had moved onto Muggle forms of torture like whipping and cutting for a week, and had recently discovered the mental torture they could subject Harry to._

 _They had used Occlumency simply for fun, and had discovered an abundance of information that they could use against him. The last few days had been spent making him relive the memories of much of the abuse he had suffered at the hands of Uncle Vernon. They had particularly enjoyed making him watch Hermione's death over and over again. His voice was hoarse from screaming, and though he knew that he was being weak for letting it affect him as much as it did, he was starting to wish they would just let him die already._

 _What he didn't expect was for Avery to approach him with a vial, prying his jaw open and forcing it down his throat. After he had consumed the whole thing, they let him fall back onto the floor and stepped back to watch. His first thought was that maybe they had poisoned him, finally deciding to show him mercy and let him die. He didn't realize it was a hallucinogenic until mere seconds before the shape of Uncle Vernon approached him._

Harry wrenched himself back to reality, feeling as if he was still under the influence of the hallucinogenic. Tears were streaming down his face, and through his swimming vision he could see the shadows of Uncle Vernon, Macnair, Malfoy, Avery, and Lestrange hovering over him, waiting to pounce-

At that moment, a knock came on the door.

Severus POV

Severus had relaxed outside for most of the day, only waking Draco when it was time for dinner. He couldn't deny that it had been nice to be able to spend some time with his godson and forget that Harry was in his room sulking in silence. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he mentally slapped himself. Harry had suffered beyond anything he could ever imagine. However, the voice in his head that still held resentment towards James Potter told him that his son was being just as over dramatic as his father. He knew this was wrong and foolish to even think about, but old habits die hard.

Dinner was draining as usual, with Severus trying to diffuse the tension and prevent the inevitable awkwardness. When the boys went back up to their room, he leaned back and sighed in relief. He tried not to think about it too much, but he was in no way qualified to be taking care of these boys. Sure, if that was their only option other than St Mungo's, he was willing to do it, but he was getting very concerned and was starting to become angry at Dumbledore for not helping him out at all.

 _Oh, remember what your father did, because apparently child abuse makes you qualified to deal with torture victims, isn't that right Dumbledore?_ Severus thought. _And that damn therapist seems to just be making things worse._

He stormed over to the fireplace with the intention of sending an angry floo message to Dumbledore, but before taking a handful he attempted to calm himself. He took a few deep breaths and leaned his head up against the bricks, shaking his head and tossing some powder in to signal to Dumbledore that he could come over.

After a few minutes of waiting, he got up to get some tea. As he was adding milk, he heard the familiar swoosh of the fire and Dumbledore emerged. "Hello, my boy," the old man greeted him.

"Albus. Tea?" Severus responded, keeping his temper in check enough to be civilized.

"No, thank you, I have to be off in a few minutes. I just wanted to check in and see how everything is going. How was the therapy appointment today?"

"Well, Harry refused to talk, Draco flipped out and had a panic attack, and I ended up spending the day outside with him after he got claustrophobic and threw up."

Albus sat down heavily on an armchair. "Has Draco opened up at all and talked to you?"

"He hasn't directly talked to me, but he isn't as closed up as Harry. When I found him today trying to get outside, he thought I was Lucius. He was saying that the walls of his cell were closing in and that he was sorry and would go back down to the dungeons. Once he realized it was me he kept apologizing, even though I told him there was nothing to apologize for."

"What about Harry? Any progress with him?"

"As far as I know, he was completely silent with the healer. I have no idea what's going on inside his head. He holes himself up in his room all day and only comes down for dinner."

"Severus… maybe if you tried to talk to him."

"See, this is what I wanted to talk to you about- I can't just _talk_ to them and fix all their problems. They don't trust me, and I can't really blame them. I can't help them." The end of the sentence trailed away to a murmur.

"If you can't help them then nobody can. I don't know where else to send them. I have nobody else who I think can identify with them."

"And just how can I identify with them? What ounce of experience do I have with torture victims?"

"I've said this before. Voldemort tortured you under the Cruciatus curse when you were Death Eater, correct?"

"Yes, but he didn't hold me captive for weeks."

"Severus… I didn't want to tell you like this. I wanted Harry to tell you himself. But now I guess I can see that won't happen. When… when I went to go tell his relatives that he wouldn't be coming home this summer, I found out some things about his personal life that he never told me. He tried, so many times in fact, but I never listened." He looked conflicted for a moment before he continued. "His relatives abused him. He lived in the cupboard under the stairs where they would lock him for days on end. They starved him and his uncle beat him senseless nearly every night of the summer holidays. I used occlumency to find it all out, but the signs were all there."

Severus tried to hide the shock but it was still evident on his face. "He… he was abused? How did I not realize? I'm the _Slytherin_ head of house, not to mention a spy." As he thought about it more and more, he remembered all the little things that should have sent alarm bells off in his mind. All the flinches and loss of appetite at the beginnings of the fall semesters, the obvious skinniness, the clinginess to Hagrid.

"That's why I originally thought of you. I thought if I placed Harry in a safe place with a person who understood what he was going through, he would be able to recover faster. And it only made sense to put Draco with you, since you're his godfather."

Severus, still overwhelmed by this new revelation, massaged his temples to ward off the oncoming headache. "Look how that's turned out so far."

Albus looked remorseful. "I just don't know what to do. Harry has always been like a grandson to me."

Severus nodded. He knew he had to at least try. "I'll do my best, Albus."

Albus looked up with a small twinkle back in his eyes. "Thank you, my boy."

"Yes, well I can't make any promises. They'll be lucky if I don't accidentally forget to feed them and starve them to death. This is why I don't have pets."

Glancing at the clock, Albus rose slowly from the chair. "I'm sorry, but I must be off. And, Severus, please try. You might even find out a few things about yourself in the process."

"What?" But the old wizard had already vanished into the floo with a swoosh of his purple robe.

Severus shook his head and returned to his tea, eventually giving up on trying to decipher the crazy old bat's cryptic messages. He resolved to go check on both Draco and Harry before they went to bed, quickly pausing to pour both a cup of tea and put a warming charm on the mugs.

Draco's room was closest to the stairs, so he knocked lightly on the door. He heard a quiet "come in" from inside and opened the door to see the blond sitting on top of the covers and reading. Severus noted the tension in his body, but dismissed it.

"Hi, Professor," he said, looking up.

"Draco, please. It's Severus." He handed the mug of tea to him and sat down at the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

Draco tensed up even more, but set down his book and folded his hands in his lap. "I'm… better, I suppose."

Now was probably the best time to breach the subject, Severus reasoned. "What happened today?"

Draco paused a moment before responding. "I'm not sure. I woke up after a nightmare in the library, and I thought I was back in the dungeons. It was small and dark and I needed to be outside. I haven't been outside, you know, since I was kidnapped." He stared at his hands the whole time, seemingly afraid to meet Severus's eyes.

"Draco, there is nothing to be ashamed of. Your mind is playing tricks on you. You're safe here. And any time you want to go outside, just let me know."

"'Kay. Thanks."

He patted the boy's knee before standing. "Good night. If you ever need me, I'm right down the hall."

"'Night, Severus."

As he returned to the hallway, he contemplated how soft he had become with Draco. But now was the hard part. It was time to talk to Harry.

 **AN: Ugh, I know, it was cruel to switch POV like that. It was actually unintentional, but the next chapter might be kind of short, so hopefully I can get it up soon. If you hadn't guessed, Severus will walk in on Harry during a difficult moment. Maybe this fic will take a happier turn towards the end, but right now it's just… angst. Whoops.**

 **Again, I hope this wasn't triggering or upsetting for you. If you have any experience with self harm, I'd like to encourage you to fill out the study on** _ **Xkeep your faithX**_ **page. It helps to raise self harm awareness and study the effects of social media on self injury.**

 **Please follow and review!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 **AN: Thanks for all your great reviews! I really appreciate all my readers- when did 75 followers happen?! Especially since this is my first story!**

 **I'd like to address one thing that might not have been clear before. Harry is suffering from a mental disorder called selective mutism. People with this condition choose not to speak due to social anxiety, trauma, etc (in Harry's case it was trauma). This is voluntary, and there is no physical damage that caused it. Harry feels alone and thinks that nobody will understand if he shares his experiences with them. He also doesn't want to burden anyone. Just wanted to clear it up a little, it will become more obvious as the therapy goes on.**

 **Anyway, this chapter is kinda angsty but actually kinda fluffy. Hope you enjoy!**

Harry POV

Harry froze. It must be Snape. Uncle Vernon's shadow sneered at him. Macnair was still pulling at his hair, fueling the headache pounding behind his eyes.

"Harry, can I come in?"

Harry's eyes fell on the door handle. It was unlocked. _Stupid._ Though he supposed there were enough unlocking spells that it didn't really matter anyway. The handle turned.

Snape seemed to be surprised, to say the least. Harry knew he should get up and at least try to make himself decent, but the blinding pain in his head and the lingering fear from the flashback were debilitating.

"Harry?" Snape murmured hesitantly, approaching him slowly. Harry shook his head vigorously, in turn upsetting the headache, and scooted away slightly. The professor stopped in his tracks, holding up his hands to signal that he meant no harm. For once, Harry was grateful to him.

But he hadn't forgotten the presence of the Death Eaters in the room. Subconsciously, he knew it wasn't real, but he still jumped when he heard one of them give a malicious laugh behind him. He knew that meant they were going to hurt him in some way that was enjoyable for them. He whipped his head around to see Lestrange lingering in the corner, fingering a whip the way one might admire a particularly expensive piece of jewelry. He scrambled up with speed that made his head spin and stumbled to the door. Snape caught him, however, lowering him to the ground again.

"Harry, tell me what's wrong," Snape said, but it sounded distant. Harry's eyes were on Lestrange, who was fast approaching, brandishing the whip. He lifted his arm over his head to protect his face, letting out a whimper… but no lash came.

Harry opened his eyes to see Snape kneeling in front of him, blocking his view of Lestrange, who seemed to have vanished. Either that, or he wasn't even there in the first place. Snape was grasping his right wrist, his clean wrist. His eyes, however, were fixed on the other wrist. The long sleeve of Dudley's shirt had fallen down when he had lifted his arm. When Harry realized he had seen both the old scars and the new ones, his tears started again, and he ripped his hands away to cover his face with them as he fought to stop crying.

He felt Snape's hand on his arm and for once let it stay there. It was nice to be comforted rather than beaten after doing something wrong. Part of his brain was telling him to suck it up and put up his facade again. He shouldn't be accepting pity like this. He pushed back those thoughts and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. His headache was only worsening, sending black spots flickering across his vision.

Eventually his tears slowed to a stop and he allowed Snape to pull his arms down and lead him back to the bed. Harry sat stiffly as Snape perched on the edge of the comforter, dreading the inevitable conversation to come.

"Harry… Can I tell you a story?"

Harry raised his eyebrows slightly and shrugged.

"Okay. When I was a young boy, my mother died. She was very sick for the majority of my first years, and after I got over the initial grief, I was just happy that she wasn't suffering anymore. But a few months after her death, my father became angry all the time. He started hitting me when he got annoyed with me. When I was nine, your mother became my first friend. My father was angry, since she was muggle-born, and he started beating me more and more often, saying I was a disappointment and would never live up to the Snape name. I went to Hogwarts damaged and angry, with only one friend and no social skills. When your father came and took Lily away, I hated him not just because I was in love with her but because she was all I had. The abuse only worsened over my years at Hogwarts, and I adopted many… unhealthy ways to deal with it.

"Harry, I'm assuming that based on the scars on your arms, the self harm started before you were kidnapped. Which means that it was caused by a different type of torture than what you endured in the dungeons. I'm not going to say it, but I think I know what it was. Whenever you want to talk… I'm here. And I understand, even though you might not be able to see that now."

He paused, but Harry just shook his head, surprised at hearing such sentiment from the normally stoic professor. Snape briefly laid his hand on Harry's shoulder as he stood.

"Whenever you're ready, Harry."

After he left and the door was shut behind him, Harry heard muffled muttering- Snape was no doubt adding wards to prevent this from happening again. He stared at the door for several minutes afterwards. Where before there had been pain and sadness, now there was just emptiness.

Draco POV

Draco was curled up in a tight ball, covers pulled up to his chin. Every noise and every shadow made him jump, causing momentary panic. He knew he was being irrational- he was safe now. Still, he eventually gave up on sleeping in the dark and turned the bedside lamp on. After nearly another hour of tossing and turning, he finally fell asleep.

He woke up a few hours later, shaking violently. He was frozen for a moment before he kicked off the suffocating blankets and scrambled from the bed, running a hand through his sweaty hair and shaking his head to clear his thoughts. He paced for a few moments to try and slow his racing heartbeat, attempting to stifle the tears threatening to spill over. Leaning against the wall, he gave up on calming his heavy breathing and sputtered as his lungs struggled to take in air. His body was refusing to cooperate, only fueling the fear coursing through his veins.

He had dreamt of his father. It was enough to send him into a complete panic, and he could nearly hear his father's words in his head. _Disappointment. Traitor. Disgrace._

He needed to be out of the room. The library was where he always felt calmest, so he made his way down the stairs, clutching the railing with white knuckles. He had made it to the end of the hall when he knocked into a dark figure that had just turned the corner. He let out a panicked shriek, flattening himself against the wall. The figure's long hair and dark robes were so similar to his father's…

"Draco?"

Draco was already on his feet again, stumbling away desperately on trembling legs, but tripped over a rug and fell. He curled up in a protective ball and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the first kick…

"Draco, it's Severus." When Draco opened his eyes again, the figure was still there, giving him a few feet of space.

"Severus?"

"Yes, Draco, it's just me," he replied, kneeling down next to Draco. Draco's breathing was getting out of control, and his chest was heaving as he choked on air. He found the corner of Severus' robes and clenched them tightly in his hand as Severus helped him sit up. Terror still fresh in his mind, he was unable to calm down for several minutes. Severus simply sat patiently against the wall with him, careful not to get too close and make him nervous again. When Draco's breathing finally evened out, he took a leap of faith and leaned his head hesitantly against Severus' shoulder. Initially, the potions master tensed up, but a moment later relaxed and murmured, "Would you like to talk about it?"

Draco shook his head, not wanting to be forced to call up memories of the nightmare. Eventually, he began to nod off again, but jerked awake, on the edge of tears at the idea of confronting his dreams again. Severus turned his head and took in the boy's face with a worried expression. "What's wrong?"

Draco sighed, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. "I'm scared. I don't want to dream."

Severus stood and pulled Draco up. "Come on, I'll give you a dreamless sleep potion." He kept his hand on Draco's shoulder to reassure him as he led him to his lab to get the potion, then back upstairs to his room. Draco got back under the covers and plugged his nose to drink the potion. His last bittersweet thought before he fell asleep was that Severus had been more of a father to him in the last week than Lucius had his entire life.

 **AN: I hope you enjoyed this chapter (it was kind of short, sorry). Please follow and review!**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 **AN: Again, I apologize for the amount of time it takes me to write each chapter, I'll update more when finals are over- if I survive them. Thanks for 120 followers, and I hope you all enjoy the chapter!**

Severus POV

Severus awoke slightly more tired than usual. He had dozed off in his lab the previous night, and when he headed upstairs to go to bed, he had to deal with Draco's nightmare. It just reminded him how far out of his league he was. He had been completely unable to help Draco, and the boy wouldn't even tell him what the nightmare was about afterward.

He rose wearily from the mattress. Nightmares were to be expected at this stage, he told himself. It would be a while before the boys opened up to him, and even then he couldn't expect them to tell him everything. He wasn't sure he even wanted to know. Even the limited knowledge he had about their experiences was painful to think about- he knew he would never be able to understand the agony they had felt.

He dressed in simple navy blue robes and headed downstairs, skipping breakfast and heading straight to his lab. He looked through the stack of mail that had been dropped off yesterday, finding a letter from Madame Pomfrey detailing the necessary potions to prevent either of the boys from having chronic pain due to their injuries. He made a mental note to brew them later and do some research for non-addictive potions to help Draco sleep.

Tiddles appeared in front of him to deliver her morning report on the boys. "Good morning, Master Severus. Draco has just begun eating breakfast in the dining room, if you'd like to join him."

"Thank you, Tiddles. What about Harry?"

"Harry is awake but hasn't come downstairs yet. Would you like me to bring him breakfast in his room?"

Severus sighed, realizing that Harry would be even more adamant about avoiding him after last night. He would give him space, but that didn't mean he was going to let him sulk in his room every day. "Yes, bring something up for him. Make sure to tell him that we'd be glad for him to come to the dining room."

"And what would you like for breakfast, sir?"

Severus stood, wandering to the door. "Would you mind bringing me a bowl of oatmeal to the dining room?"

"Of course, sir."

As Severus walked into the dining room, he paused in the doorway. Draco had his knees pulled up on his chair and was reading what looked like one of the books from his library. His omelette sat half-finished in front of him. Severus marveled at how innocent the boy suddenly seemed before crossing the room and taking the seat across from him. "Good morning, Draco," he said as Tiddles brought in his oatmeal. He frowned when he saw that as usual, the house elf had insisted upon sweetening it with honey and berries.

"'Morning," Draco mumbled in reply, letting his hair fall over his eyes."

"Draco," Severus said, "look at me."

Draco lifted his head and met the professor's eyes hesitantly.

"What happened last night is nothing to be ashamed of, understand? I don't think any less of you, and I don't want you to hesitate to come talk to me about anything."

Draco nodded and returned nervously to his book. Severus pulled out his _Daily Prophet_ and started picking at his oatmeal, satisfied. A few minutes passed before Tiddles reappeared, offering to take away Draco's omelette. Draco nodded, and Severus eyed him over the top of his paper. "Draco, why are you eating so little?"

Draco shrugged, glancing up only briefly. His clear aversion to the question only made Severus more worried- and slightly annoyed.

"Draco. Look at me when I'm speaking."

Draco clenched his jaw and looked up. "What?" he snapped.

Severus raised an eyebrow in his signature expression of contempt. The boy had gone from sad and hesitant to indignant in seconds.

"I'm simply wondering what's causing your disinterest in food. I think I've mentioned several times that I'm trying to help you."

Draco shook his head, not responding. When he saw Severus expecting a reply, he groaned. "They starved me, okay? I assume you know that. It's not easy to go straight from eating literally nothing to eating three meals a day."

Severus shrugged in an effort to stay nonchalant. "That's why we have potions, Draco. I already have a stomach settling potion brewed, so you can start taking it before lunch."

Draco looked put out and slightly embarrassed of his reaction. "Okay," he murmured. Changing the subject, he asked, "Where's Harry?"

Severus put the self-blame for Draco's starvation behind him and sighed. "He's not up yet. Maybe he'll come down later."

When Draco returned to his book, Severus also turned back to his paper, but was struggling to concentrate. He recognized the emotion written on Draco's face- loneliness. He knew reading alone could only occupy him for so long, and with the recent betrayal of his parents he needed reassurance from another person who enjoyed his company. Harry obviously wasn't ready to provide that for him...

"Draco, why don't you write to someone? I have some parchment and quills that you can use."

Draco's fingers tightened discreetly on the cover of the book. He was silent for several moments. "I don't know," he finally said. He paused again, and Severus waited. "I never had any real friends at Hogwarts. Just people that father wanted me to associate with."

"Well, you could write to a professor instead, just to let them know that you're okay and to ask them for your missed work. You don't have to if you don't feel ready, and Professor Dumbledore has made it clear that you aren't expected to make up your finals."

Draco seemed nervous, but nodded with a quiet "sure."

Severus snapped his fingers to summon Tiddles, allowing her to take his oatmeal and asking her to retrieve the materials for Draco. When she reappeared, he handed the paper, quill, and ink to Draco before using a quill of his own to write a response letter to Poppy. Perhaps one day she would be able to come and give the boys a follow-up evaluation. A few minutes later, he sealed his letter, which was relatively short, and looked up at Draco, who was sitting with his hands clenched in his lap, staring at the paper.

"Draco, please. Don't stress yourself about this. Nobody wants you to rush yourself."

Draco stared at him for a second before his face screwed up as if he was trying to avoid crying. Before Severus could ask him what was wrong, he took off from the room abruptly.

Draco POV

Tears blurred his vision as he ran from the room, but halfway down the hall he realized that Severus would come and find him whether he ran or not. So he stopped and leaned against the wall, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes to prevent the tears from falling and waited for Severus to come out. He only had to wait a few seconds before the intimidating professor was striding towards him, grabbing his shoulders to steady him.

"Draco, I told you not to do anything that you aren't ready for. Your teachers understand that you have gone through a lot, and they don't expect you to do all of the work you missed yet."

Draco dropped his hands and tried to speak, but words seemed to have failed him, so he simply held up his trembling right hand for Severus to see. His eyes widened in understanding when he saw not only the missing little finger, but mangled and crooked state of his knuckles.

"Draco, I-"

"They did it on purpose," he murmured. "I didn't realize until now, but…" He stopped. "How did you find us in the first place? Did they let us go so that we'd have to deal with this?" He was starting to grow delusional, still staring at him.

"Draco, that's a conversation for another time," Severus said, looking at him nervously. "Why don't we go sit down?"

Draco didn't acknowledge him. "How am I supposed to write, or play Quidditch? For Merlin's sake, how am I supposed to do anything? Everything will be so different when I get back to school- I'll be an outcast. I'll fail all my classes, I'll-" he broke off, wrapping his arms around his chest, which was starting to feel like it was closing up again. He took a few heaving breaths, trying to fill his lungs, which seemed to be knotted.

"Oh, Merlin," Severus said, but his voice sounded far away, like he was underwater. He grasped Draco's forearms, leading him back to the dining room, where he sat him down in a chair and pulled another over so he could sit down. He hesitantly put a hand on his back, clearly trying to overcome his aversion to human contact, and attempted to comfort Draco. He didn't mind the gesture, but it did very little to help him. His heart was pounding in his chest and anxiety seemed to be coursing through his veins.

Severus called for Tiddles to bring a calming draught, but it took longer than usual for his breathing to slow after he took it. Severus had him count slowly to ten with him as he calmed down, and eventually he returned to the present, his face heating up as he realized what had happened.

"Sorry," he muttered to Severus, who was watching him worriedly.

"What did I say about apologizing?" Severus said.

"Not to do it. Sorry," he said again, before realizing his mistake and shaking his head as Severus chuckled slightly.

He hadn't forgotten about his hand, however, and his newfound fear for the coming school year was still fresh in his mind. Severus saw him glancing at his fingers again and pulled his chin up with his long, thin fingers- his five straight, full-length, agile fingers.

"Draco, we'll figure this out. Okay?"

"Okay," he muttered, willing to try and ignore it for as long as he could.

"Come on," Severus said, pushing his chair back. "We'll go to the library and I'll show you some of the secret passages. It'll make it easier to get there from your room at night." At Draco's questioning look, he raised an eyebrow. "You thought I didn't know about your late night excursions? Magic is a beautiful thing, you know. I have eyes everywhere."

Draco shook off the slightly maniacal glint in Severus's eyes and followed him from the room on still-shaky legs.

Harry POV

At some point during the morning, the sun became too bright for Harry and he closed his curtains, sending Hedwig out the window before retreating back into his bed. The darkness was comforting- it reminded of his cupboard. Ironically, the cupboard reminded Harry not of nights waiting fearfully for Uncle Vernon to come home drunk, but of safety. After all, when Harry was in the cupboard, Uncle Vernon wasn't hurting him. He had even found his old horse figurines that he had kept on the single shelf above his pillow.

He dozed off, and when he woke up it must have been around noon, since the sun was completely filtering through the curtains. He groaned. The darkness of the room with the exception of only the light coming through the window was strikingly similar to the dungeons, where the only light source was the small, barred window. Despite himself, he felt the beginnings of a flashback, and quickly leapt from the bed, tearing the comforter from the mattress. He bundled it up under his arm and peeked outside his room. Taking in the empty hallway, he tiptoed a few feet away to a small closet. It was relatively empty, so he spread the comforter out on the floor and laid down, pulling the figurines and his wand from his pocket, feeling like his eleven year old self. Using his wand, he projected designs of light on the ceiling and levitated his figurines, feeling tears wet his face without even knowing why he was crying.

He knew reminiscing on less problematic times wasn't helpful at all, but loneliness and sadness got the better of him. Uncle Vernon never exactly beat him until the summer before his third year- after his "stunt" with the Weasleys and the flying car. He felt himself longing to go back in time to before his uncle started coming home drunk and before Hermione died. And without physical pain to distract himself from the emotional pain, he felt the urge to cut himself again. Frustration filled him as he remembered Snape noticing them the previous night and he realized he was digging his nails into his forearms. He slowly pried his fingers away and turned over, looking at the projections and trying to tune out his thoughts with sleep once more.

 **AN: Hope you enjoyed! By the way, I think I'm going to change the rating to M because of the violence (I was actually going to mention this, and then I got a review about it which confirmed it for me). Also, I wanted to say thank you to you all for your support and wonderful reviews, so please follow and review! Wish me luck on my algebra, science, and history finals… :(**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

 **AN: Just going to put a quick warning that this story is going to get exponentially more sad and dark before it gets happier. With that said, I'll put the warning out there- these next few chapters contain suicidal themes. I just want to avoid triggering anyone and caution anyone who doesn't want to read it. I'm trying to capture the reality of the boys' situation, and they need to hit rock bottom before they can recover. Of course, there will be recovery. Hope you enjoy-**

Harry POV

When Harry finally stumbled from the closet, his sense of time was distorted, but he knew exactly what he wanted to do. Having time to think with only the darkness to keep him company, he had made many realizations. He had no real escape from this… whatever it was. He obviously didn't belong here with Snape, whose charity would only last so long (plus, he and Draco seemed to be getting along fine without him), he would no longer burden the Weasleys, and he assumed Snape had told Dumbledore about the Dursleys- or the other way around.

His thought process, which was usually distorted by anger, sadness, or fear, was fairly logical. He had one way out. He wasn't daunted by it, after all, he'd considered it a lot over the last few years. He'd even tried it before with the painkillers in Aunt Petunia's medicine cabinet, but he didn't take enough, and just got really sick the next few days. Obviously he got a beating for stealing the medication.

He crept back to his room. It was early evening. Heading into the bathroom, he saw that Draco's room was empty, and closed both doors. He was alone. Though he would rather just get it over with, he forced himself to sit on the toilet cover and think it through. Obviously, he had made the decision over a long period of time, but he was hesitating, as usual. His wand was poised above his wrist over the old scars, shaking.

Harry took a deep breath. This was what he wanted. He was oddly calm, despite the trembling in his hands. He reviewed all the reasons in his mind and listed the people left who would even care if he died: Dumbledore (questionable, now that his usefulness had run out), the Weasleys (questionable, they hadn't tried to contact him), his teachers at school (questionable, he was just another student to them), and Snape, he supposed (very questionable, Dumbledore was undoubtedly forcing him). He was unconsciously tracing the wand lightly around his wrist, and in a moment of courage, muttered the dreaded spell and cut down vertically.

Draco POV

Draco was reading his second book of the week with his feet tucked under him on the couch. Severus was sitting across from him, working on what Draco presumed were teaching plans. The book he was reading was about a little girl who finds an abandoned dragon egg- the last of its breed- and raises it before heading off to school when she turns eleven. She has to release it before she leaves, but it follows her to school and she has to find a way to hide it from-

Severus interrupted his thoughts. "Why don't we go get Harry and have dinner? It's getting late."

Draco nodded and bookmarked his page, following Severus from the room. They had only reached the base of the stairs when a high-pitched noise caused Draco to jump. Severus looked around for a moment, confused, before his eyes widened and he pulled out his wand. He muttered a spell, causing the noise to cease, and it pointed him up the stairs.

"Harry," Severus gasped, before he began bounding up the steps. Draco, startled, followed him cautiously. Severus reached the door to Harry's room first, and Draco trailed after him into the bathroom, where Severus dropped to his knees next to a bloody body slumped on the ground. His brain didn't process what he was seeing at first, but when he realized, his hand flew to his mouth in shock.

It was Harry, with blood pouring from his wrists onto his shirt. Draco immediately recognized the wounds as self-inflicted and he froze when he finally understood-

Harry had tried to kill himself. At this rate, he might still be successful.

Harry's eyes flew open when he realized the presence of others in the room, and he scrambled away, his hand slipping in the blood that was running down his wrists.

"Draco, go to your room," Severus said, not turning away from Harry, whose eyes were wide and darting around like a trapped animal despite the sluggishness he seemed to be experiencing from blood loss. Draco stood rigid for a moment before bolting, slamming the door to his room behind him. He slumped to the ground, hands running through his hair.

He could hear commotion in the bathroom now before a muffled spell and silence. A few moments later, the door to the bathroom swung open. Severus was on the ground, having nudged the door open from his seated position. Harry, too, was on the floor, rigid- as if he had been hit with a body binding spell. Which, Draco realized, he had. His body was frozen in place, allowing Severus to wrap two towels tightly around his wrists. His wand was poised as if he didn't know what spell to use to counter whatever Harry had done to himself.

"Draco, floo St. Mungo's. Tell them we need a healer. Now."

Draco nodded, desperate to do something useful. He ran down the stairs, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste, and tossed a handful of floo into the fire when he reached the fireplace. Afterward, he didn't even remember what he said to the healer, but he was surprised that they understood through his panicky stuttering. Two healers had materialized from the fire, and he led them to Harry's room. Severus had laid him out on the bed, which was stripped, with no comforter in sight. Draco lingered in the doorway, observing the scene silently, feeling slight relief when he realized that Harry would probably be okay- physically.

When Severus glanced up and saw him, he retreated back to his room, where he sat tensely on the edge of the bed. He hadn't realized that Harry was struggling so much- he had thought that the Gryffindor's refusal to talk had been out of embarrassment. Even so, he understood the level of desperation necessary to attempt suicide.

It had been Lestrange that day, less than a week after he was kidnapped. He was playing around with a knife, making random jagged cuts across Draco's body. It wasn't really about pain- there were more interesting ways of inflicting that- it was a show of power. In that moment, Lestrange could permanently etch any words he desired into Draco's flesh, so he would never be able to escape the shame. Midway through the carving of "coward" under his collarbone, as Draco was clenching his teeth to keep from crying out, a thought had occurred to him and his mind latched onto it, unable to let it go. He fingered the raised scar along his neck as he remembered lunging desperately at the knife, trying to slit his own throat on the blade. Lestrange had simply laughed and healed him, cutting off his little finger as a punishment. He shuddered at the beginnings of a flashback in the corners of his vision, snapping his fingers nervously to try and bring himself back. Every time he thought about a specific event from the dungeons, it seemed that his mind thought it was a reality.

At that moment, Severus slipped into the room through the bathroom. Draco's head jerked up and he looked at Severus expectantly, back in the present. "How is he?"

"He'll make it through. Thank Merlin for the wards. We might not have gotten there quickly enough if they hadn't gone off."

"Are they taking him to St. Mungo's?" Draco asked nervously.

Severus raked his hand through his hair, and Draco finally noticed how exhausted and stressed he looked. "Yes." He laughed bitterly. "I tried so hard to keep him here. Being in the hospital is going to make everything so much worse for him, who knows what he'll do next…" He seemed to realize he was letting too much out, and sighed. "Professor Dumbledore will stay with him tonight."

Draco looked down. "When can we see him?"

Severus looked slightly surprised to hear the question. "You want to see him?" he asked skeptically.

Draco shrugged. "If I can. I haven't talked to him at all, and maybe I can help him feel less... alone."

Severus raised his eyebrows, still seemingly caught off guard, but nodded. "You can see him tomorrow. For now, I'll have Tiddles bring up your dinner. I'll be in my lab."

"You're doing all you can, you know. It's not your fault." Draco didn't know why he felt such an obligation to comfort his godfather, but he did. He knew Severus felt responsible for the kidnapping, as well as the trauma caused by it.

Severus nodded again before ducking his head and striding from the room.

Severus POV

Severus paused at the door to Harry's room. The healers had left him in his frozen position until he lost consciousness. Severus had needed to take down the wards briefly so they could apparate him from the manor, and just like that, they were gone. He took in the state of the room and snapped to call Tiddles.

"How can I be of assistance to you, Master Severus?" the elf inquired after appearing.

"Would you clean up the room and bathroom after you bring Draco his dinner? And find that comforter, wherever the damn boy put it."

"Of course," Tiddles replied. "And I'll fetch the comforter from the closet."

"Why is it in the closet?"

"Er... Harry moved it and spent the day in there."

Severus ran a hand through his tangled hair. "And why, pray tell, didn't you think to inform me of his abnormal behavior?"

"I- I... Well I d-didn't know until... until a few minutes ago. I was cleaning while he was there. I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean for any of this to happen..." She was in tears now, wringing her large ears, and Severus pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Tiddles, I didn't mean... I'm just stressed out. It's not your fault." Suddenly unable to look at the blood soaking the bed anymore, he left the room quickly and headed down to his lab.

When he had slammed the door behind him, he dropped the calm demeanor, smacking his palms against his desk as he slumped in his chair.

Draco was right- he was doing all he could. But it was still his fault. As a person of similar experience, he should be able to help Harry. He remembered his teenage self, desperate and trapped and alone, bullied by his peers at school and abused at home. He turned to the dark arts to make people like the Marauders suffer, not caring that he was ruining his own life because he didn't even want to live anymore.

He lashed out, knocking over a tray of empty vials, as he thought of Harry, alone in the bathroom, trying to decide whether or not to take his own life. It was too similar to his own time at Hogwarts, hiding from the Marauders in the bathroom and contemplating death.

He sighed as he used his wand to repair the glass, scoffing at his own immaturity. He needed to get a grip. Walking over to the stove, he made a mug of strong black tea and sipped it slowly as he leaned against his lab table. He wanted to see how Harry was doing, but felt nervous leaving Draco alone in the manor. He resolved to go see Harry but spend no more than ten minutes. He didn't want his other charge to have a panic attack or nightmare if he was gone for too long. He called Tiddles to inform her. She seemed to have pulled herself together and Severus felt another twinge of guilt when he remembered their earlier conversation.

Shaking off his emotions, he strode over to the fireplace and picked up a handful of floo powder, calling out "St Mungo's" clearly.

Minutes later, he was staring solemnly at the sleeping form of the Boy Who Lived. A healer was checking his vitals, but bustled from the room to move onto another patient when she saw him. He sat at the chair beside the bed, looking at the boy. He seemed so peaceful in his slumber, and Severus glanced at the bandages on his arms to remind himself that Harry was anything _but_ at peace. He gently took the slim wrist in his hand, observing the scars running all the way up his arm. They were clearly visible in the short-sleeved hospital gown.

Severus was again struck by the resemblance between Harry and himself and the self-hate sprang up again, guilt for years of tormenting the boy washing over him.

"Severus."

Severus dropped Harry's hand quickly and turned in his chair to see a very grave looking Dumbledore. "Albus!"

The older man was silent as he crossed the room and sat on the end of the bed. They both looked on for a few moments before Albus spoke. "How could this happen?"

"I'm so sorry. Draco and I were on our way upstairs to get him to come down when the wards went off. I tried to talk to him last night, I swear it. I even told him about my father."

"Severus, that's not what I meant. I don't blame you. I just meant… How could a boy who was previously so innocent be subjected to so much torment that he tries to take his own life?"

Severus looked down, knowing his part in the torment he had experienced. Not only had he failed to get the boys out sooner, he had intentionally harassed Harry for years. There was no excuse for his behavior.

"I can see your thoughts on your face. And you know that's not what I meant either."

Severus glared at the quilt on the bed, avoiding Albus's eyes, even after the bearded man sighed and looked away. _There you go, Severus- you saw Harry and he's stable_ , said the cold voice in his head. _Now leave_. But Severus found himself continuing to stare at the pallor of the boy's face, hoping for a twitch of movement... But he stayed lifeless and still.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 **AN: Apologies for the long wait, though at this point I really couldn't blame you if you didn't believe that I was actually sorry. I just started high school, and those of you who are in it or have miraculously made it out know that it** _ **sucks.**_ **I'm in CCP classes (competitive college prep), which means that I receive a lot of homework, and I also play soccer, so I have practice every day after school. Plus (as you might have noticed) I have a problem with perfectionism (lol) so it takes me a long time to complete a chapter, especially since my word goal for each one is 2,000 words. That said, I have no intention of abandoning this, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

 **Warnings: Aftermath of a suicide attempt, mentions of depression, self harm, and child abuse.**

Harry POV

Everything was white when he woke up. Which meant that he'd been sent to St Mungo's. He shut his eyes again quickly and tried to keep his heartbeat steady as his thoughts raced. He'd thought of everything- Snape and Draco would have been downstairs eating dinner, he would have been completely silent the entire time… the wards.

He'd forgotten about the wards in his haste to end his pain. Even so, that didn't explain why he was here. Shouldn't Snape have been able to take care of it with whatever potions he had? He hadn't thought this far, but he'd assumed that _if_ Snape found him, he would have kept it quiet. Merlin, what if the Daily Prophet caught wind of this? He had barely given a thought to the reaction of the media towards the kidnapping as well as his return, but the rumors that would go around…

The sense of hopelessness that had led him to this point returned as he again reflected on his inability to escape the situation. Frustration and anger burst through his logic as he realized there was a very slight chance of him being able to try again. They'd most likely put him on suicide watch or something of the like.

As soon as he realized this, he sensed another presence in the room. He cracked his eyes open to see Dumbledore sitting in the corner of the room, reading a book. When the old wizard looked up at him, he pretended to be asleep again. A few tense moments passed before Dumbledore sighed. "I know you're awake, Harry. Magic is a powerful thing, and I'm afraid that healers are very adept with it, especially in the mental ward."

 _The mental ward._ Those words echoed in his head as he looked up to see Dumbledore gesture at a monitor next to his bed, which was blinking to show that he was awake. He stared blankly at it for a moment, not wanting to make eye contact with Dumbledore. He could sense the unspoken words hovering in the room, the same doubts and regrets that were running through his own mind: _All the sacrifices made for you- your parents, Hermione, Cedric- for nothing. You've thrown it all away._

"All I ask of you, Harry, is to answer this one question. Do you regret it?"

Harry finally met his eyes as he contemplated the question. Did he regret trying to kill himself? Not exactly. Did he regret the events that drove him to that decision? Yes. So he chose the safe option, and nodded, welcoming the lapse into silence that followed.

Severus POV

Severus awoke from a fitful sleep just as light began to filter through the curtains, the events of the previous day flooding back as he regained consciousness. For a childish moment, he wished that it had all been a dream, and that he'd get up and Lily's son would be fine again, at least in the physical sense. He immediately dismissed the notion, remembering his promise to Draco to see Harry today. It would probably be safer, he mused, to floo Dumbledore first to make sure Harry was at least somewhat emotionally stable. Either way, he'd have to visit, with or without Draco, to discuss the next course of action. Any hope of keeping the ministry uninvolved with the boys' recovery seemed foolish now, since admittance to St Mungo's was tracked by one of their departments.

He groaned as he stood up, feeling lightheaded for a moment before he caught his balance. He'd made Draco eat three meals yesterday, but had only eaten oatmeal himself. Not that lack of appetite was unusual to him, but no doubt Tiddles would come harass him any moment about breakfast. It was safer to just go downstairs before she started acting like his mother again. Not that he really knew what that was like.

He didn't realize that he was still in his dressing gown until Draco, who was sitting at the table when Severus entered the dining room, stared at him a bit longer than usual, eyes lingering on the loose silk material. Severus shot him a glare, but saw the corners of the boy's lips twitch upward, despite the overall somber mood in the room.

Tiddles brought him toast, unusually silent, a fact that would have been appreciated by him if not for the circumstances. Finally unable to bear the tense quiet any longer, he cleared his throat. "Harry was asleep when I visited last night. As soon as I get word from Professor Dumbledore that he's awake and functioning, we can visit the hospital."

Draco nodded, looking, if possible, even more nervous at the thought of seeing Harry.

"Draco... You know you don't have to-"

"I want to," he replied firmly, as if his hands weren't shaking, something that Severus had noticed was almost constant.

He nodded, standing and vanishing his last piece of toast. "I'll get you when Professor Dumbledore says we can come," he said, eager to be alone again. However, at that moment, a tawny owl swooped in through an open window, its feathers rustling. The note that it dropped in Severus's hand was comprised of few words: _He's awake. The doctors want to speak with us. -A_

St Mungo's was a traditionally white washed hospital bustling with overly cheery nurses and well-paid doctors. Severus could feel Draco's growing tension in the crowded hallway as they headed for the mental ward. When they passed through a set of double doors, it was abruptly quiet. Their footsteps echoed as they looked for the room they'd been given, and finally they entered a conference room with only three people in it- Albus, his chin resting on his hands, and two doctors in white coats.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, standing to meet him. He stopped as Draco, who had been close by Severus's side, flinched away. "Mr Malfoy. Draco. Would you wait outside for a bit while we talk?"

Draco nodded, clearly not happy with the idea of being alone there, but Severus walked him to a seat right outside the door with the promise that they would only be a few minutes.

When he closed the door, he dropped the calm and reassuring facade and allowed Albus to pull out a chair for him, suppressing the many questions running through his mind.

"Good to meet you, Mr. Snape. It's regrettable that it's under these circumstances," said the healer directly across from him, reaching across the table to shake his hand. Severus simply nodded, wanting to get past the niceties. The other healer, Dr Asher, introduced himself as well- as Harry's psychiatrist.

"We have several things to discuss. Obviously you're wondering about the arrangements for the length of his stay here, however we have another pressing matter that we feel is necessary to discuss with you first. Harry has been completely silent so far, and I have been told," he glanced at Dumbledore, "that this isn't out of the ordinary for him."

"Hasn't said a word since he got back," Severus mumbled.

"Well, we think it would be best to put him on medication, but if he won't speak with us, we have no way of knowing what to give him. We can assume that he is experiencing post-traumatic stress disorder, but there are a variety of different anti-depressant and anti-anxiety pills and potions within that spectrum. We were hoping that you could describe some of his symptoms that you have witnessed."

"Isn't it unsafe to put him on a medication when you don't know specifics?" Severus asked skeptically.

"With muggle drugs it would be, but with wizarding treatments we have eliminated many of the negative side effects that they can have. It makes it easier to find the right fit. We'd also start with a lower influence drug that wouldn't cause too harsh of a reaction from Mr. Potter. We've done things like this before." He gave a calm, albeit condescending, smile to the tense man sitting across from him.

Severus harrumphed but began to describe a few of Harry's symptoms. "Flashbacks, hallucinations, decreased appetite, self harm as you've probably noticed… he stays in bed and sleeps most of the day, flinches at loud noises, hates physical contact, and gets headaches. He also hasn't made any effort to contact his friends since he got back."

Dr. Asher nodded, jotting down a few notes on a pad in front of him. "Okay. I can't technically diagnose him with anything, but his symptoms suggest PTSD and depression." He paused, tapping his quill on the edge of the table in thought. "It would probably be easier to give him pills than potions if he'll be taking them daily, so I'll write a prescription and give it to you after your visit with him. If you want, I can speak to the Malfoy boy a bit later as well, and see what I can do for him."

Severus suppressed his irritation at the way the man had mentioned Draco, and nodded. "Thank you," he said through gritted teeth. The healer probably hadn't meant to be rude, and despite his negative mood, he was glad to be seeing at least some good out of this situation.

"Now to the other situation at hand," the other healer interjected. Severus switched his gaze to the other end of the table, noticing Albus still pacing in the background. "The standard length of a stay here after a suicide attempt-" Severus inwardly cringed at those words "- is anywhere from three days to a week, before being moved to a psychiatric facility. Due to your adamancy that the ministry not be involved in these transactions, we have concluded that Harry can be moved to your desired location in two days' time."

Severus raised a brow in pleasant surprise, glancing at Albus out of the corner of his eye. No doubt the headmaster had insisted on the confidentiality bit and the decreased length of Harry's stay. Despite knowing that the boy would be worse off at the hospital, he was still surprised that Albus trusted him with Harry after all that had happened.

"Seeing as you are his legal guardian," the healer continued, "Harry can be moved to your home after the two days are up, as long as he is under constant surveillance, unless you would prefer to move him to a psychiatric hospital for recovery. Which we would recommend." he added quickly at the end of his sentence.

Severus shook his head. "I feel as though, with Harry's reluctance to talk, another hospital would hurt him more than help him. And," he added in confusion, "there must be some mistake. I'm not Harry's legal guardian. Just his godfather." He didn't feel much guilt in the lie- in fact, Lily _had_ argued for Severus to be godfather rather than Black.

"Well, that's not what the paperwork says." He glanced at his watch. "I'm sorry, but I really should be going. I have another meeting in five minutes."

Dr. Asher crossed the room as well, shaking Severus' hand again. "My office is in room 412, if you'd like to bring Mr. Malfoy up later. I don't have an appointment for another hour."

Abruptly, Severus was alone with Albus, who he rounded on, snatching up the papers that had been left on the table. Sure enough, in the text of a typewriter, the words "Guardian: Severus Tobias Snape" were under Harry's name.

"Severus, you understand that in order for Minister Shacklebolt to legally allow you to take Harry in, I had to take the necessary measures. It's not as if he'll be going back to his relatives," Dumbledore stated calmly.

Severus was anything but calm. "And you didn't think to consult me before doing something so monumental?" The older wizard was silent. "Draco as well?"

Albus nodded. Severus laughed bitterly, bordering on hysteria. He had been under the impression that this commitment was for the duration of the summer at the very most. He was in no way fit to care for two wards for longer than that.

"You never read Lily's will, Severus. This was what she wanted all along. We had to place Harry with his aunt and uncle because of your role as a spy, but now that that's no longer a factor, and our other option has been exhausted, it's what Lily would have wanted. And, again, it was _the only way._ "

"I can't deal with this right now," Severus muttered, shaking his head. Draco was still waiting. He left the room without uttering a goodbye, and his agitation grew when he saw that the chair outside of the door was vacant. Where could he have gone? The meeting had lasted longer than he had expected, but he hadn't thought it was long enough for anything to happen. Both ends of the hallway were empty, and Severus pulled back the curtain over the window on Harry's door slightly as a last resort, though he doubted that Draco would have ventured in alone.

To say he was surprised at the scene in front of him was an understatement. The previous house nemeses were in the same room as each other, unsupervised, and nothing was broken and nobody was shouting insults. In fact, the Slytherin was sitting cross-legged at the foot of the Gryffindor's bed, keeping a respectful distance. And the Gryffindor's lips were moving… almost as if he was speaking.

 **AN: Sorry for the cliffhanger, but gotta keep y'all on your toes for the next time I actually have time for an update (hopefully I'll have a study hall this week where I can write and finish up the next chapter). Sorry for any errors, I didn't have much time to proofread and I didn't send it to anyone like I usually do. Please follow, favorite, and review :)**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

 **AN: ...Guys. It's been… how many months? Two months? Okay then it's worse than I thought.**

 **I'm a terrible person. I am** _ **so**_ **sorry for the gap in my updating schedule. I've just started high school and it's been hard for me to keep up with all the work. Also I've gotten bored with the playlist I usually write with, which decreased my motivation, so leave song recommendations in the reviews if you feel so inclined.**

 **By the way, sorry to those of you who get email notifications, I posted this chapter before and then realized I didn't add an author's note. Hope you enjoy this chapter despite the long wait.**

 **Warnings: Aftermath of a suicide attempt, torture, depression, self harm, and child abuse.**

Draco POV

Severus had left him alone in the brightly lit corridor. For the most part, the hospital was silent, but hearing quiet footsteps clicking on the tile floor down the hall sent him flashing back to only a few weeks ago, curled up in a ball and hearing footsteps echoing through the dungeons, fear flooding his body. He flickered back to the present briefly before again being surrounded by darkness, hearing the click of steel-toed boots passing the door to his cell and the creak of the next door over opening. Then chains were dragged slowly across the floor as a small voice whimpered a few incoherent syllables too quiet for him to hear, before the sound of loud screams reverberated from the walls, causing him to hug himself even tighter.

The brightness of the hospital flooded his eyes again as he fought to keep himself there, not wanting to hear Harry's cries for them to stop whatever torture they were inflicting. After a while in the dungeons, Harry had stopped pleading for an end to the pain, though Draco could still hear his broken sobs when he thought he was alone. The footsteps were gone now, but Draco stood, not wanting to think about it anymore. Instead, he decided to check on Harry. The Gryffindor would probably be much less happy with his presence if Severus was also with him.

He cautiously knocked on the door before opening it just enough to slip inside, closing it quietly. Harry was sitting with his back against the headboard, staring at a portion of the wall directly across from him. Draco froze as Harry's gaze moved to him and back to the wall again, unnervingly indifferent.

Nobody else was in the room, but Draco took notice of the camera in the corner. No doubt somebody was watching the surveillance at that very moment, though he could assume that the objects of the room had been spelled so that Harry couldn't hurt himself.

"Harry?" Draco spoke quietly so as not to frighten or irritate him. The other teen simply crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to look at him again. Draco didn't know what he had expected, but was starting to get the feeling that this hadn't been the best decision.

In an attempt to seem a bit less awkward than he felt, he crossed the room and sat in the cushioned chair next to the bed. He had only been sitting there for a few moments when he noticed Harry discreetly digging his nails into the bandages wrapped around his wrists so as not to be seen by the camera.

"Harry stop!" Draco blurted, standing and grabbing Harry's hand to pull it away. Glad to see no blood staining the white of the bandages, he tore his eyes away from the horizontal scars crisscrossing all the way up his arm. Rather than sitting back down in the chair, he settled on the corner of the bed. He didn't know why he felt this brotherly protective instinct over Harry suddenly, but he knew it was partly for his own selfish reasons. After all, Harry was the only one who knew what it had been like in the dungeons.

Draco sighed, his hand going to the knapsack he had brought with him. "I brought you a few things," he said to the other boy. He moved slowly so Harry wouldn't feel threatened, and pulled a few books from his bag that he had snagged from the manor's library that morning. "I'm not really sure how long you'll be here, so I brought four." He read out the titles as he placed each one by Harry's knee. " _A History of Quidditch_ , _The Fellowship of the Ring,_ _The Magician's Nephew,_ and _Cold Season._ The last three are muggle books, since Severus is a half blood and I think a good number of the books in his library were his father's. I think you'd like _The Fellowship of the Ring._ It's the first book in a trilogy, and I'm reading the second one right now."

The corners of his mouth turned up a bit when Harry picked it up, examining the golden lettering on the spine. At least he was getting a reaction. Then he looked up at Draco with furrowed eyebrows, and Draco smirked as he realized what he was asking.

"Why am I being nice to you?" Harry jerked his head in a gesture for him to continue. "Good question. Maybe because I know what it was like down there too and I know what it was like to want to die rather than feel any more pain. I guess I reached that point when we were still trapped there-" he pointed at the scar on his neck- "and you got there yesterday." He pointed at Harry's wrists. "So I'm not judging you, Harry. I know that what they did to you was probably much different than what they did to me, and whatever you went through was bad enough to make you stop talking, and then do this." He paused at Harry's surprised look. He realized he was talking at a rapid rate and took a moment to release the tension in his shoulders.

"Look, it's just hard for me to see you like this. And I know that if I felt as alone as you probably do, I'd want someone to care. Obviously it would be easier if you would, you know, talk to me, and I would ask why you stopped in the first place, but that would warrant a response that I know I probably wouldn't get."

He sighed and sat back, trying to read Harry's facial expressions at all the information he had just thrown at him. His breath hitched as he saw the raven haired boy open and close his mouth a few times as if he was contemplating speaking.

Finally, Draco heard the other boy's voice for the first time since he had stopped pleading with their captors.

"It's easier to deal with myself when I don't have to deal with other people too. I wasn't ready to talk about what had happened as if it was over, because I feel like it's still haunting me. I'm _still_ not ready to talk about it."

Harry POV

The words slipped out of his mouth so quickly that he wished he could reach out and snatch them back. A small part of his mind was trying to convince him that Draco understood, at least partially, what he was feeling, but the majority of his brain was screaming that this was _Malfoy,_ the ferret who had made his life hell for the past five years. He'd just use this information to torment him in the end.

Malfoy was staring at him with wide eyes, clearly trying to think of something to say in response, and Harry was surprised to see him relax, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I get it," he said quietly. "Sometimes I feel like talking about it makes it harder to deal with in the end. How are you supposed to move past it if you keep bringing it up?"

Harry couldn't help but admit to himself that those were pretty much his exact thoughts on the matter, but kept his jaw clamped firmly in place, averting his eyes and fixing his gaze on Draco's right hand. He hadn't noticed its damaged state before, and he took in the scarring remorsefully.

Draco, seeing where his attention was directed, crossed his arms, hiding his fingers.

"Your hand," Harry muttered, giving up on his vow of silence, at least for the moment.

"I have my fair share of scars. I'm sure you do as well," Draco said coldly. Harry realized quickly that he had touched a nerve, and fell silent for a few moments.

"Nothing that happened to you down there was fair," he said to the Slytherin quietly. His thoughts turned to Hermione, and all the other people he had allowed to die for him. He had certainly deserved the torture he had endured. Besides, most of the torture had been psychological, and it was all about things that were his fault, such as Hermione's death and his uncle's abuse.

Draco was watching him quietly, as if he could see Harry's thoughts. He supposed that Slytherins were good at that - analyzing people.

"It wasn't fair to you either," he said finally. "Despite what you might think."

Harry looked at him through the locks of long hair that were falling over his eyes, searching for a lack of sincerity. He was startled by a knock on the door, and put some distance between him and Draco before the door was opened by Snape. Draco had not looked away from him, however, and Harry was glad when he moved his perplexed gaze to the man at the door.

"Draco, would you mind waiting outside for a few moments? I have to speak with Harry."

Draco stood, grabbing his bag. "Harry, I hope you like the books. I'll see you tomorrow," he added when Harry shot him a helpless look. He might not trust Draco, but he was not keen on being alone with Snape. The other boy gave him a small but reassuring smile and left the room.

Harry rested his head against the headboard, staring back at the ceiling. He did his best to hide his scars against his stomach.

"Harry," Snape said. "Harry," he repeated when the boy in question ignored him.

Harry rolled his eyes and looked at him. "Look, I know you're angry. This is quite possibly the worst place for you to be right now, and I get that. But I have to tell you a few things before Draco and I leave. Please just listen to me."

Raising his eyebrows, Harry nodded slightly.

"Okay. I just spoke with the psychiatrist responsible for your medication. After an attempt they usually prescribe people some sort of medication to help in their recovery. Would you be willing to speak with them if they were to come evaluate you?"

Harry shook his head. The thought of talking to a doctor made him nauseous.

"Alright, would you be willing to speak with me if I were to ask you questions that you could answer with a simple 'yes' or 'no'?"

Harry considered the man for a moment before shaking his head again. It wasn't that he didn't want to feel better (though he knew he didn't deserve it anyway). It was just that the idea of revealing his thoughts to Snape made him want to jump off a building. It reminded him too much of their occlumency lessons, where Snape saw too much of his mind than he was comfortable with.

He could see that the man was getting exasperated, though he was doing a good job of hiding it. He could see the way his mouth twitched slightly with the effort of avoiding keeping a neutral expression.

"Harry, if you're not willing to be evaluated then you will be blindly prescribed a weak antidepressant or anti-anxiety medication. I'll respect any choice that you make, but I'm just warning you that it might not make much of a difference."

Harry kept his steady gaze on the professor; his silence an answer in and of itself.

"Okay," Snape finally conceded. "The last thing I'm supposed to inform you is that you will only be staying here for one more day. You'll be permitted to return to the manor on Thursday morning. This is an exemption from the standard procedure," he added, "so please behave yourself until then."

Harry almost laughed. What was he going to do? There were no sharp objects in the room, and he had noticed the camera in the corner, undoubtedly observing him whenever he was alone. Snape stood to leave, but hesitated before he reached the door.

"You _can_ talk to me, you know. I'm sure it's harder than I can even imagine, but I want to help. I know Draco does as well."

Harry regarded the man quietly and eventually nodded, finally left alone with his thoughts.

Draco POV

When Severus re-emerged from the room, Draco stood to meet him. The professor put his hand between Draco's shoulders and guided him down the hall. At Draco's questioning look, he explained, "I just had to get away from that room."

Draco nodded his understanding. "I hate seeing him like this." A moment later, he continued, "Where are we going?"

"A psychiatric office. Harry's doctor said that he would evaluate you and prescribe you medication if need be." He said this so nonchalantly that Draco recoiled from his touch.

"What?" he said shakily, embarrassed by the unconcealed fear in his voice.

"Draco, this could be just a temporary thing, until you start to get better. It will help you,"

" _Help_ me? I can't just go in there and-"

"Yes you can. Think of the way that you're feeling right now. Do you want to keep feeling that way?

"No," Draco said sullenly.

"No," Severus repeated. "Then we're going in there. I'll be with you the whole time, unless you want me to leave."

Draco shook his head. "Can you stay with me?"

"Of course."

 **AN: Please follow and review! I appreciate all feedback :)**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

 _AN: I'll explain my extended absence at the end, but I hope you're all having a lovely day and I hope you enjoy the chapter!_

 _Same warnings apply._

Draco POV

Later, when Draco awoke in the middle of the night, his heart was beating a mile a minute and skin was crawling as if he was covered in spiders. He sat up slowly, trying to remember what his nightmare was about, but it seemed to be hidden somewhere in the back of his mind. Despite this, he had a feeling of wrongness that hinted that something horrible had happened.

He lay back down and closed his eyes, but his stomach refused to stop turning with the weight of repressed memories. The psychiatrist at the hospital told him that was normal- the more damaging parts of the past few weeks had been hidden away by his brain in an effort to protect him from the nearly unbearable psychological pain that came with them.

After a few minutes of this, he remembered another piece of advice from earlier that day- or… yesterday, he corrected, looking at the clock. It was two o'clock in the morning. He wasn't supposed to stay in bed when he couldn't sleep. He was supposed to get up and distract himself until he started to feel tired.

Draco had thought that he couldn't get bored with reading- after all, it was what he used to do all summer at Malfoy Manor- but he was beginning to lose interest in it after days of reading the same book. He didn't mind that it was muggle, it was just so long. Wizarding books were thicker, but many were written in script, so there were fewer words on each page. He was beginning to think he might need glasses with the small size of the print in muggle books.

Sighing, he kicked his blankets off and made the trek downstairs to the library. He wasn't supposed to take sleep medication unless he really needed to because of how easily it is to become dependent on the drug.

He curled up on one of the couches, staring into the fire. He kept thinking about Harry, alone in the hospital, and his hand, and the upcoming school year, and his therapy appointment tomorrow…

He exhaled slowly, fighting the sensation that a rock had landed in his lungs. Standing up again, he paced the room a few times, running his fingers over the spines of the books to calm down. He didn't realize he was crying until the tears reached his neck, dampening his collar. Every emotion that he'd been stifling for the past days with everything that had happened, all the fear from the random panic attacks and the confusion from his dream, crashed down on him. As sobs racked his body, he slid down with his back against a shelf, completely overwhelmed.

Harry POV

Stone dug into his back, scraping against a few healing lash marks on his shoulder blades as he rolled over. He dragged himself into a seated position despite the weakness in his body from malnutrition. Footsteps were echoing down the long hallway and he refused to let them enter the room to see him weak and vulnerable.

Then they were on top of him, dragging him by his shoulders and hair, and he was in the center of the cell. There were hands everywhere, covering his mouth and holding knives to his skin slicing his flesh as if he was a piece of meat being fought over.

He was submerged in water, being drowned, he was sure. His fingers struggled at the ground beneath him, around the bucket that his head was held in. He welcomed the blackness as it crept into the edges of his vision, but he was pulled from the water at the last second, oxygen flooding his lungs as he gasped. Death had escaped him once again. He didn't deserve it, they reminded him constantly. Death was a reprieve that he was not to be granted.

He deserved the pain. It was his fault, after all. Everything was his fault.

Waking was like being plunged back into the water, except this time it was fear and depression drowning him. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself before lying back again, staring at the ceiling lights that were dimmed now. Misery consumed his mind and pressed down on his chest. He wanted to cut so badly, but could sense eyes on him somewhere in the room without even looking up.

He drifted in and out of sleep for the rest of the night, trying to stifle his thoughts with his pillow pressed unceremoniously over his head. When he awoke to light streaming through the windows of the room, he sighed and hid his face away yet again, ignoring the nurse who brought a platter of breakfast for him. All he wanted was to be alone.

"Mister Potter?" A voice asked. He jerked his head up, having not noticed anyone enter the room. It was a healer, wearing thin blue robes. He had a kind smile on his face that Harry met with a scowl, which he vainly tried to wipe off. He nodded silently.

"My name is Healer Smith. I'm here to take your vitals and check the healing of your wounds." He bustled around to the side of the bed, a piece of parchment attached to the clipboard he was carrying. When he pointed his wand at Harry (warranting a small flinch), a quill began scribbling rapidly across the parchment, reminding him of the Quick Quotes Quill used by Rita Skeeter in his fourth year. Healer Smith set down the clipboard and turned back to Harry.

"Can I please see your wrist?"

Harry hesitated before reluctantly extending his right arm to the healer, who carefully unwrapped the bandages. He finally got a good look at what he'd done to himself now that his head was clear. The gash was close to six inches long and deeper than he'd ever gone before, lined with stitches and swollen.

"Since the wounds are self-inflicted, they cannot be healed by magic, so the recovery will be slow," the healer explained. "Some more advanced potions can speed the healing process, but I'm sure your guardian would know more about that than I."

Guardian. Guardian? Surely the subject of conversation wasn't Snape. The thought was chased from his head when Healer Smith prodded at one of the stitches, making him wince in pain.

Noticing this, the healer rewrapped the bandages with practiced expertise and repeated the process with the other wrist. Since Harry was right-handed, his left wrist was in worse shape, evidence of the more controlled wielding of the blade.

Healer Smith examined the blood that had soaked through the bandage, then the injury itself, where two of the stitches had been ripped. Then he turned his eyes on Harry, who averted his gaze to the wall.

"Mister Potter, I will not judge you or ridicule you for the actions that you have taken to cope, but I must ask if you have attempted to reopen this wound."

Harry shrugged, and the healer seemed to understand the unspoken response, wrapping the bandage tightly before drawing his wand again and tapping it against the material covering the cuts with a muttered spell.

Then he stood. "You have two visitors waiting for you outside. Shall I let them in?"

Harry sighed but nodded. Draco and Snape must have returned. In the moment of solitude that he was given, he tugged at the edge of the bandage, but the spell seemed to have adhered it to the skin. He groaned angrily at the loss of his one form of release.

"Harry, darling, my goodness." He looked up at the sound of a woman's voice. Mrs. Weasley?

Molly and Ginny crossed the room hesitantly, and he accepted a hug from the former before pulling his knees up to his chest in a protective position and staring at the two of them as they sat. Ginny had tears in her eyes as she picked at the arm of her chair.

"We're so glad to see that you're okay, Harry," she whispered. "Dumbledore told us what happened."

Harry was internally fighting with himself, debating the consequences of talking. He didn't want their judgment, or their help- he was sick of people thinking that they understood him when there was too much that they didn't know.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk to us, dear," Mrs. Weasley said quickly. "He told us that might happen."

He nodded, looking down again and gnawing on a nail.

"We... Well, we came here for two reasons. We wanted to let you know that if you ever wanted to come and stay with us you'd be welcome. I know that your current arrangement isn't ideal-"

Ginny laughed, though she looked near tears. "Who made that decision? For Merlin's sake, I can't imagine being stuck with Snape and Malfoy."

"Ginny, please. I know how you feel about Professor Snape, but he's been very generous to take in Harry and Draco. This whole situation is unfortunate and Professor Dumbledore is doing his best with the resources that he has."

Ginny rolled her eyes and looked pointedly at Harry, who had been watching the exchange silently. Then she seemed to remember something and looked away, her face falling.

Mrs. Weasley just shook her head and looked back at Harry sadly. "The second thing… well, it's about Ron." Dread settled in his stomach and he stared at her, willing her to go on.

"When… when you were taken, the Order sent out as many people as they possibly could to look for you. Ron insisted on going, so we finally agreed. We paired him with Alastor Moody, the most experienced auror at our disposal, and sent them off on a thestral." Her voice cracked.

"Another pair found their bodies four days later." Harry clapped his hands over his mouth, his mind going numb as she continued. "They must have run into a group of Death Eaters. Alastor was killed by the Avada Kedavra curse, and Ron was knocked off of the thestral in a body-bind." Harry rocked forward, his stomach rolling with nausea at the thought of his best friend pummeling to the earth, helplessly watching the ground grow closer.

"It would have been quick," Ginny whispered, crying in full now. Harry's eyes did not move from the sheets of his bed, but he heard something shatter next to him as his magic lashed out. He only comprehended snippets of the next few minutes. A door opened and he was vaguely aware of movement around him.

"-Added stress could be harmful to the-"

"-Harry, please stay in contact-"

"Reparo-"

Then, a door closed and there was silence. His heartbeat was ringing in his ears and he couldn't help but think that it shouldn't be there at all.

 _AN: Um, so it's been... 6ish months? I'm really sorry for leaving you all hanging and I want to thank you for continuing to read and follow and review this story. Your support has been so wonderful and reassuring and I'm so grateful._

 _Basically, for those of you who don't know, I struggle with depression, anxiety, and disordered eating. The last few months (well, let's be real- the last few years) have been really hard for me and my level of functioning has been quite low. I've been expressing myself through the story (Draco's panic attacks, Harry's_ self harm _and depression) and around the time that Harry attempted suicide was when my suicidal thoughts really peaked and I started seriously considering it for the first time. Don't be concerned, I've started medication and I'm feeling so so much better. I just wanted to give a little explanation about why I haven't been updating and to let you guys know that if any of you are suffering, it will get better. If you need support or someone to talk to, please PM me (I'm not just saying that, you actually should if you ever need anything). I'd also highly recommend the website 7CupsOfTea if you want to chat with a listener anonymously for free._

 _Anyway, I hope that this explains my absence. I hope to be updating much more often in the future (especially since summer is coming up) and if you have any ideas, inspiration, music, etc for the story feel free to review or PM me._

 _P.S. Please follow, favorite, and/or review! :)_


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Severus POV

Why would they tell him that? Severus had known about Ron Weasley's demise since the night that his body was discovered, but had no intention of telling Potter- Harry- until he was in a more stable emotional state. However, he had received a floo call from St. Mungo's this morning informing him that Molly and her daughter had visited Harry this morning and had told him about the Weasley boy. Apparently his accidental magic had been out of control for a quarter of an hour before he calmed down a bit, but he had refused to eat and had been staring into space since.

Draco was in the library with Healer Jackson, who had been upset to hear about Harry's attempt but had agreed to meet with him at the hospital that evening to see if he would talk. Severus wondered if Draco would be as tense and closed up as he had at his last appointment, or if he would finally accept the help that was being offered to him.

He sighed, discarding another failed potion and shedding his robes. He tossed them over the bench, leaving him in an untucked white button-down shirt. Honestly, he thought, rolling up his sleeves, this whole situation had him a mess. He was unable to concentrate on the potions that he had to finish for Hogwarts for the next school year, and he was slowly dissolving into disorganization. With the stress of the guardianship, his lab had fallen into disrepair, and he forlornly began shuffling parchments into small piles, attempting to make his desk at least somewhat presentable.

Realizing that he was fighting a losing battle, he considered calling Tiddles but decided against it. The elf had been a tearful wreck for the past day, constantly mumbling about the "savior of the wizarding world" having been failed by all those who were indebted to him. Severus couldn't agree more but chose not to acknowledge it. He was riddled with enough guilt already.

Draco POV

"Why don't you tell me what happened to you after you were taken."

Draco shifted uncomfortably. For ten minutes, he and Healer Jackson had danced around any serious topic, talking about the books that Draco was reading and the school subject that he was most excited to return to. Now he picked at the sleeve of his robe and looked at the healer's shoes.

"I don't want to talk about it," he muttered, his shoulders tensing.

"And why is that?"

"I don't know." Internally, he heard his father yelling at him to speak clearly and fix his posture, but he ignored the voice.

Healer Jackson leaned back. "You're going to have to give me a bit more than that." Draco remained silent. "We don't have to talk about what happened until you're ready, but you can start by explaining why you're avoiding it. Are you ashamed of something?"

"Yes."

"What are you ashamed of?"

"What they did to me. Not being able to fight back."

"Mhm."

"I was weak. And that was what my father wanted. For me to be so helpless that I would hate myself even more than I already did."

"You think that was his goal?"

"He's a sadist. It wasn't just about inflicting pain, it was about power. Humiliation." He clenched his teeth.

"And what did he do to make you feel that way?"

Draco didn't miss the fact that the healer was just trying to worm information out of him in a subtle way, but he found that he didn't care. Part of him just wanted to tell him all of the things that his father had done so that he wouldn't have to keep hiding it anymore.

Draco gestured to the only visible scars, those on his hand. "Anything that your imagination can conjure. He sure used his."

"Hm. And you say that this made you feel humiliated?"

Draco sighed, feeling somewhat irritated- more like himself. "Yes." He hated being asked his feelings.

"I see. What makes you think that you have anything to be humiliated about? Do you think that what happened to you was your fault?"

"Logically, no."

"But emotionally…"

"Yes."

"That's something we can work towards, then. Accepting what happened, and moving past placing the blame on yourself."

Draco nodded, still annoyed by the whole situation. All he wanted was to be alone.

"On a different note, how are you feeling about Harry's situation?"

Draco shrugged. "I mean, I'm worried about him. I've been there."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"It seems that you rarely want to talk about anything." Draco smirked at the biting comment. He found personal conversations irritating and difficult, but sarcasm was a language that he understood.

"I tried to slit my throat while I was in the dungeons. I stopped eating the small amounts of food that they gave me. They weren't about to let me die, though. They couldn't make me suffer anymore if I was dead."

"I see. Do you feel the same way now?"

"Not really."

"Not really?" the healer repeated, leaning forward.

"No. I don't."

"Why is that? What changed?"

"I don't know. I guess… now I have Severus. He seems to actually care, more than my own parents ever did. But I doubt that'll last very long."

"What do you mean?"

"Well… I doubt he'll want to deal with me for longer than Dumbledore makes him. After this summer he'll probably forget about me."

"Why do you think that?"

"That's what most people do. And Severus isn't any different. He's my godfather- he was friends with my parents. Whenever he would come to visit when I was young, I would cling to him because I wanted to be away from my parents, but he always ignored me."

"Ah. It's interesting how our experiences in childhood have such a significant effect on us later in life. However, don't you think that perhaps Severus's indifference towards you as a child was due to the role that he was playing as a spy? Now that he is no longer confined to that life, there is no way of knowing that he'll go back to acting that way towards you."

Draco shrugged. "Maybe."

"So you have trust issues."

"You could say that. Then again, I've never encountered anyone who has ever sought my trust. Or deserved it, for that matter."

The healer was silent for a moment. "Perhaps Severus understands that more than you give him credit for."

Harry POV

Harry was curled into a ball, covers pulled up to his chin. His mind was screaming but he felt strangely quiet.

Empty.

A nurse came in to take his vitals and redress his wrists but he stayed unresponsive the entire time, allowing her to move his arms and remaining limp while she wrapped fresh bandages around the stitches.

Because he wasn't being moved to the psychiatric ward of the hospital, he constantly had another nurse watching him from the corner of his room to ensure that he was unable to hurt himself, though the room had already been spelled to prevent it anyway. Clearly they were especially concerned about their resident celebrity, Harry Potter.

"Harry Potter. Our new celebrity." He shivered as the memory took a more sinister turn.

"Harry Potter. Nothing but weak and useless." Lucius Malfoy slowly walked into the cell and towards him, likely taking pleasure in the way that Harry flinched and tensed in the corner of the cell at every thump of his boots. Pain shot through his stomach as Lucius kicked him once, casually, then drew his wand.

"Legilimens."

Lucius dug through Harry's memories until he found an unpleasant one from when he was seven, before the abuse worsened, that he could recreate into something even more twisted. Aunt Petunia had dragged him from where he was cleaning Dudley's room into the bathroom and ran a freezing cold shower. She had seized him by his hair and shoved him into the icy water fully clothed, then hit him over the head with her wooden cooking spoon for tracking water through the house when he went outside to dry off.

Harry hit his wrist against his knee a few times, trying to drag himself out of the flashback before it got worse.

Lucius left, but returned moments later with a bucket of water. This one was scalding hot, however, and before Harry could process what was happening, he was being shoved into the water by his hair. He screamed but the water absorbed the sound, and it felt like forever until he was pulled up. He relished the coolness of the air against his skin and flooding his lungs for mere seconds before he was shoved in again. After he was pushed under for the fifth time, he heard the spell that he dreaded most.

"Crucio!"

Harry gasped, finally emerging from the flashback. He heaved deep breaths, feeling as though he actually had been held underwater by an invisible tormentor. Sitting back against the wall, he wondered why nobody had noticed on the other end of the camera. Just as this thought crossed his mind, he heard a voice say,

"Flashback?"

Harry hadn't noticed the man sitting in the corner of the room. He nodded to him uncomfortably. None of the other nurses that watched him had tried to talk to him. The man wouldn't leave him alone, however.

"I'm Sebastian," he continued. "Don't worry, I know you don't talk. It almost makes me curious about what happened to the great Harry Potter that you're trying so hard to hide."

Harry shifted and averted his eyes. He didn't like this nurse one bit.

"You know, I'm even inclined to find out." He rose, and Harry flinched. This could be nothing, he told himself. Don't overreact and make everyone think you're even crazier than they already assume. But when he heard the next word that was spoken into the room, he knew it wasn't nothing.

"Legilimens."

The spell had him careening through memory after memory that he had tried so hard to suppress. He saw the faces of Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Lucius Malfoy, Lestrange, Dolohov, and tens of other nameless Death Eaters that had tortured him. It seemed as though hours passed that he was stuck in the past, reliving the horrific events that had left him here, though in reality, he knew it was likely only minutes.

Commotion broke through the stream of memories and he gasped in relief as he observed the scene in front of him. He was on the ground next to the bed. Sebastian was on the ground as well, in a body bind, and Snape was striding into the room with his wand still raised. Out of the corner of his eye Harry could see Draco pressed up against the wall.

As Snape approached his bed he crawled back to the corner of the room and pulled his knees to his chest. Snape put his hands up in a gesture of appeasement as he came towards him. Harry tried his best to ignore him, not wanting to deal with other people right now when there was so much to deal with in his own mind.

Tears were slipping down his face now as the weight of everything crashed in on him.

"Harry, it's alright. We're going to get you out of here today, okay?"

He heard him murmur something to Draco before he left the room.

"Harry?" Draco said hesitantly. He moved towards the other boy and sat next to him on the floor. "I'm here if you want to talk about what happened. Did he use legilimency on you?"

Harry nodded numbly. He was shaking so hard that he barely had control over his own limbs.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Harry shook his head. "Okay," Draco conceded. "Well, I'm here if you need anything. Do you want to get back into bed?" Harry shook his head again, expecting that Draco would get up. When he stayed, Harry relaxed a bit so that his shoulder brushed against the other boy's. Normally he hated it when people touched him, but this time it was comforting to know that someone was close. Close enough to protect him from his demons.

He didn't know how much time passed before Snape re-entered the room carrying a stack of papers.

"These are your discharge papers. We're leaving now."

 _AN: I'm back! I intend to finish this soon (wish me luck). I hope you all enjoyed this chapter; please follow, favorite, and review! Your support really keeps me going and I love hearing your feedback. Don't hesitate to give constructive criticism :)_


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

AN: Sorry for the gap in updating... Hope you enjoy!

Harry POV

After flooing to the manor, Harry discovered that he was to be under constant surveillance at all times.

"It's for your own safety," Draco said as he flopped into a chair across from him in the library, holding a book in one hand. "Try to understand that, okay?"

Harry did understand it. He just didn't understand why it was necessary. Tiddles had spelled all the items in the manor to be completely useless, and had hidden all sharp objects. There was no way that he could hurt himself, so why was his privacy being invaded now too?

He laid down on the sofa in the library, staring at the fire crackling. He was losing his mind. He was trying with everything within him to forget about Ron's death, but he was plagued by it constantly. It now seemed despicable to end his life when people like his parents, Sirius, and now Ron had sacrificed their own so he could live. They had placed a value on his life that he didn't want. He didn't want the constant reminder of his worth when his mind was constantly telling him that he was worthless.

He wanted to die.

When nighttime came around and the darkness inside of him seemingly enveloped the manor, Snape came into his room and conjured a chair. Harry ignored him, rolling over on his bed so that his back was towards him.

"Harry."

Harry didn't reply but turned to look at him.

"Will you need something to help you sleep?" Harry shrugged, shaking his head. They were silent for a few minutes, and just as Harry closed his eyes, Snape spoke again. "I know you don't think anyone would care if you died. But I do. And Draco does, even if he won't say it. I know that's hard to believe when we've both failed you so horribly in the past. But it's true."

Harry considered the older man carefully. He was correct in assuming that Harry wouldn't believe him but he found that he was beginning to question himself. He didn't understand why Snape would continue to lie to him about it. What did he have to gain from manipulating him? Nothing. He was no longer the Chosen One now that Voldemort was dead. He was damaged and useless.

He drifted to sleep with doubt and confusion on his mind.

Hours later he awoke suddenly. Initially unsure about why he was awake, he looked around cautiously. Snape had fallen asleep in his chair, and Harry almost laughed when he let out a snore. His smirk faded immediately when he realized what had woken him. His bathroom door was open and he could hear moaning and crying from the other room. Figuring that Snape must have been fast asleep to be so oblivious to the noise, he quietly got out of bed and crept across the room. He shut the bathroom door behind him and turned to Draco's room.

The Slytherin was thrashing in his bed, whimpering with tears running down his face. Harry stood in shock for a moment before crossing to Draco's bed and slowly shaking his upper arm.

"Malfoy. Draco. It's a dream. Wake up… Draco?"

The other boy's eyes had flown open and he stared at Harry for a few seconds before he bolted up and pitched off the bed, almost tripping when his feet touched the ground.

"Draco! It's Harry. It's just me!"

Draco relaxed slightly when this registered the words, but didn't move. "Sorry," he whispered.

"It's fine. There's nothing to be sorry about." When Harry realized he had spoken, he literally clapped a hand over his mouth. It took a moment for him to lower his hand again and speak again. "Nightmare?"

Draco nodded and climbed back into his bed. Harry sat down at the foot of the bed and pulled his legs up. He decided to move past his fear of speaking for now and try to return the kindness that Draco had shown him in the hospital. "Do you want to talk about it?"

The blond furrowed his brows. "I don't remember it."

Just as Harry opened his mouth to reply, the door behind him burst open. He turned quickly to see Severus enter and visibly relax when he saw Harry there. "Oh," he said. "I thought…"

"He's fine," Draco said shakily, still trembling from the dream. Harry nodded in agreement.

"Okay, well… Tiddles will be in your room when you go back to bed. I'll be in my room if you need anything."

Draco gave him a tight lipped smile and Harry raised his eyebrows, willing him to leave. He did, leaving Draco and Harry alone again.

"You should go back to bed before Tiddles comes knocking too," Draco said.

Harry shrugged. "Do you need anything? I can stay if you want."

"No. You should sleep."

Harry eyed the other boy thoughtfully before nodding and walking to the door.

"Oh, and Harry? Thanks. For waking me up."

"No problem," Harry said softly, crossing the threshold and taking up his silence again.

Draco POV

When Draco woke the next morning, he remembered. He remembered the dream, he remembered the parts of the torture that he had blocked from his memory, _he remembered it all._ Before he was even fully awake he was careening into a flashback.

 _It was the first week that he had been in the dungeons. Father hadn't entered the cell at all, and Draco had almost convinced himself that his father wasn't involved. On this day no bread was dropped through the slot. When the door finally jerked open he didn't know whether to expect food or pain. When he recognized the shoes of the person entering the cell, he simultaneously felt hopeful and terrified. But his father wasn't the only person in the room. An unfamiliar man strode in behind him, and Lucius spoke only six words before ducking out the door. "Do what you want with him."_

 _The man raped him that day. It was horrible and painful and humiliating and Draco wished for death the entire time. The man raped him every day after that as well. Father would let him into the cell, he would violate Draco, and he would leave only to come back the next day._

Draco knew where he was but all around him he was surrounded by the sensations of that first day. He felt the ghost of pain everywhere in his body and the ever-present feeling of filth.

He didn't become aware of himself again until he found himself in front of the wall with blood on his hand. He realized he was sobbing, animalistic sounds emerging from deep within him. It took a second for the pain to register, but when it shot up his arm he was distracted from even the wards that were buzzing throughout the manor. He punched the wall again and again, his face twisted in pain and anger and wet with tears. He heard the door burst open and rushed footsteps behind him. He slammed his fist against the wall once more before he felt a hand grab his arm.

Looking up through the blurriness of his tears, he saw that Harry was holding him, and Severus was hurrying through the door, wand out.

"Draco…" Harry gasped, extending his bloodied fingers.

Draco ripped his hand away. "Don't touch me," he whispered, backing against the window. "Please."

He scratched at his upper arm, trying to rid himself of the feeling that he was being held down. His skin was crawling with disgust. Disgust for himself, and for everything that had happened to him.

Severus POV

Severus had been confused when the wards went off. He was in the same room as Harry, leaving Draco as the one who was hurt. He was surprised when Harry, hearing the wards, leapt from his bed and rushed through the bathroom to Draco's room. He was even more surprised to see Draco's hand bloody and mangled, with blood speckling the wall where his knuckles had cracked against it.

"Draco…" Harry said breathily.

"Don't touch me. Please," Draco whimpered, pulling away and rubbing his arms as if to brush something off.

Severus could see his chest heaving with quickening breaths. "Draco, I need you to calm down and tell me what's wrong," he said, slowly approaching the panicking boy.

"No," Draco spat, suddenly seeming angry.

"Draco."

The boy seemed to break, his face crumpling as he cradled his injured hand. He shook his head.

"Draco, can you sit so Severus can see to your hand?" Harry murmured, gesturing to the bed.

The blond nodded slowly, and Harry led him to the bed, sitting next to him. Severus followed, trying to hide his shock in the way that Harry interacted with Draco and the way that he _spoke_ around Draco. Another thing that he hadn't seen about the Gryffindor. He couldn't help but notice the bandages still around Harry's own wrists as he so carefully helped Draco with the harm that he had done to himself.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he summoned Tiddles, who fetched a calming draught and bone-mending potion in seconds. Draco took both of the potions without complaint but didn't even seem to be present. Severus took his hand, observing the damage he had done. At least two bones were broken, and his knuckles were cracked and bloody. Severus sighed as he thought about how mangled his hand had been before, and hoped the newly broken bones would heal correctly. He wished Poppy was here- she would be able to heal the bones properly in seconds with a simple spell.

Draco seemed to be completely out of it. He had jerked his hand away to avoid being touched, but his eyes were distant and still wet. Severus took the opportunity to inquire.

"Draco, what happened?"

The boy remained silent as he watched some of the skin regrow over his knuckles with a murmured spell from Severus.

"You're going to have to tell me. You just broke two bones and luckily the wall is stone, or else you might have done some damage to that as well."

Draco finally looked up. "Just a dream."

" _Just_ a dream?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'd like you to stay with Harry or downstairs with me in my lab for the rest of the day, at least." Draco nodded soberly but made no move to get up when Severus rose.

Harry nodded as if to suggest that he'd stay with Draco, still obviously holding his vow of silence, at least towards Severus. The professor nodded back, turning and leaving the room once more.

Hours later, Severus was still in his lab. He had forced himself to disconnect and focus, trying not to be concerned about the boys upstairs. He had checked on them twice, and both times Draco had been staring into space while Harry was working on what seemed to be schoolwork of some sort. Severus had always assumed that the Golden Boy was a slacker who didn't even try to do his schoolwork to a high standard. _Add it to the list of things you incorrectly assumed about him,_ he thought. _Harry might be James Potter's son, but he is not the same person as his father._

In the early afternoon, after Severus had called Tiddles to bring lunch to the boys but hadn't eaten anything himself, he heard a knock on the door. "Come in," he called as he stirred the potion four times clockwise. He looked up and saw Draco lingering in the threshold.

"Draco."

"Severus."

"Is something wrong?" Severus asked, becoming concerned with the detached look still present on the boy's face and the dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes.

Draco laughed bitterly. "Everything's wrong. That's a dumb question.'

"Sit," Severus said, pointing to the chair across his worktable. He stirred the potion again, twice counter-clockwise, and looked at the teen now sitting across from him. "Is Tiddles with Harry?" When Draco nodded, he continued. "If you would only tell me what happened maybe I could understand." Silence met his words. "Tell me this. How is this thing different from what you've already told me in the past?"

"It's completely different," Draco muttered. "I can't. I just… can't. I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about. I'm here when you're ready." With this Severus returned to the potion, not wanting to push the subject now. Draco picked up one of Severus's scholarly journals and flipped through it as Severus worked.

Almost an hour passed. Draco had moved to sit at Severus's desk and put his head in his arms, and Severus thought him to be asleep when he finally spoke.

"They raped me."

Severus almost dropped the mixing spoon. Anger, guilt, concern, and a thousand other emotions flooded over him.

'They raped you," he repeated.

"Yes."

"I see."

"You knew."

"I did," he said. The potion was bubbling a dangerous green color and Severus abandoned it, crossing the room to his desk. He sat next to Draco and leaned onto the smooth wood of the table.

"You knew about it this entire time."

"I didn't think it was right to tell you, but rather to let you figure it out on your own. And I didn't know for sure that you didn't remember it, you could have just been hiding it. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that I can't fix this."

"I know."

Severus leaned forward and pulled Draco into a hug. The boy tensed for a moment, still uncomfortable with contact, before collapsing into the embrace as if overwhelmed by the pain consuming him.

"You shouldn't hug me. I just feel so… damaged. Dirty."

"You are not," Severus whispered, heart breaking for the broken boy in his arms. "You are not," he repeated.


End file.
